


Eight Months

by TCRegan



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, May/December Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-23 10:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 95,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4872898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCRegan/pseuds/TCRegan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eve Trevelyan was only a mage-apprentice at Ostwick's Circle of Magi when the rebellion forced her far from home. After surviving the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, she finds the will and strength to continue the fight against Corypheus and his forces with the support of her friends and allies. Young and naive, she navigates the pitfalls of leadership while discovering that you can find love in the strangest of places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to Vee, who inspires me in all things, especially the admiration of Alexius. Also for the title, which was a toss up between this or "An Education" which was decided against because the plot doesn't quite fit the film of the same name.
> 
> This is purely a romance story, which is kind of a new thing for me. I'm used to writing more adventurous tales. Hopefully I do the genre justice. As per usual, concrit is welcome and feedback is appreciated. Enjoy!

"Here, I made this for you," Evelyn Trevelyan said, handing a thick winter coat to Dorian. "Well, I didn't actually make it myself. Harritt helped me." She grinned, slightly self-conscious as Dorian took it, looking it over. He was notoriously picky about fashion, wearing thin silks while complaining about how cold it was. Not that she could blame him. Ferelden was a lot colder than Ostwick, and the Circle's fires had always been lit. The past several weeks she'd been missing them, camping with other mages until the king of Ferelden offered up Redcliffe. She and many others had been picked by the Grand Enchanter herself to go to the Divine's Conclave, though if she thought about that too closely, she would likely end up in another well of despair. Best she keep busy, and there was never a shortage of things to do around Haven.

"This is absolutely marvelous," Dorian said, pulling it on.

Eve, as she preferred to be called, wasn't sure if he was teasing her or not. They'd known each other only a fortnight, but she strayed to him in particular. Both he and Solas, actually, the mages she learned to trust in the Inquisition. Cassandra frankly terrified her, and while Josephine was nice, she was all business all the time. Leliana was sweet, but her position made it difficult for Eve to trust her, though she was fairly sure Leliana knew all her secrets without having to ask. She didn't seem to have much in common with Blackwall or the Iron Bull, a little intimidated by both men. Before Bull she'd never seen a Qunari, and Grey Wardens were stuff of legends. She supposed Sera was nice enough, but everything was a joke to her, or she was too easily offended if Eve wanted to talk about her own interests – namely magic and the history of Thedas.

Then there was Cullen. She met him in the valley, instantly recognizing him for what he was: a templar. The demons pouring from the Breach were disconcerting enough and he dispatched them easily while she sealed a rift. Hiding behind Solas was a foolish reaction to her realization when Cullen tried to speak to her, but she'd grown up around templars and learned to distrust them. She remembered her friend Marie, a hot-headed Rivaini girl three years her senior who was all too happy to talk back to the templars. Marie was Harrowed at a young age, the chances of having the Rite performed on her as punishment were slim, but Eve left the Circle before she was Harrowed herself. Even now she expected Cassandra or Cullen to drag her into a room and force her into the Fade to face a demon, waiting for her to perform the task with their swords drawn, ready to take her head if she failed or took too long.

No, she felt safer with the other mages, different though they were. Solas took her immediately under his wing as soon as she started asking questions about the Fade and spirits, thirsty to learn more, to arm herself with as much knowledge as possible to better protect herself against possession. As for Dorian, well… getting stranded in a horrible future with the older man had been its own harrowing experience. Not that she regretted the time spent with him – she rather liked Dorian, after all – but she still had nightmares from the memory of it. Waking up alone in the darkened house, shivering, wishing she was back in the mage-apprentice dorms in the Circle, surrounded by dozens of others in her same situation. Or in a familiar camp with other apostates as they sought refuge down south. But that life was no more. She was the Herald of Andraste, a beacon of hope sent by the Maker to take on the ambitious task of sealing the Breach once and for all. Her only respite was knowing that she had people like Solas and Dorian to catch her if she fell, and she felt that it was only a matter of time before she did.

Dorian took her gently by the chin, tilting her head up. "Deep in thought for a moment there. I think I lost you."

She smiled lightly. "It's been overwhelming. There's so much for me to learn."

His thumb brushed her lower lip before he let his hand drop. "Yet not overwhelming enough to find time to apply a bit of rouge?"

Eve blushed, no doubt highlighting the makeup along her cheekbones. Having been admitted to Ostwick's Circle at age ten when her magic manifested at a grand party, she never really learned how apply cosmetics. If one of the other apprentices received a care package containing blush and rouge, it was generally shared. She had vague memories of watching her mother carefully paint her face and wished she'd learned how. But Lady Trevelyan never had much time for her youngest child and only daughter even before the templars took Eve away. Six months of keeping up appearances with occasional visits and less frequent letters took their toll, and Eve hadn't seen nor spoken to her mother in just over a decade.

"It's a touch thick," Dorian said, though not unkindly.

"Oh what would you know about it anyway?" she said, crossing her arms defiantly. Her leather boots crunched the snow underfoot as she shifted.

Dorian laughed and leaned against the wall of the apothecary, mirroring her stance. "What would I know indeed."

She rolled her eyes. "Josephine had some in her quarters. I went poking around and took a bit. I didn't think she'd mind."

"Likely she wouldn't notice," Dorian agreed. "In Tevinter, it's quite common for nobles to use cosmetics. Men and women," he added. "In Orlais below their masks, I'm to understand that they go for full face paint."

Eve hesitated, chewing at her lower lip, tasting the rouge, chalk-like on her tongue. "Could you teach me?"

"How about we take the afternoon to learn how to control your inferno spells instead? Then perhaps Solas could lend a hand with your spirit magic? I really think you'd have a talent for it if you applied yourself properly."

"Yes, mother," she sighed, regretting asking him for help with her spells. Though it was awfully fun to go out onto the frozen lake and throw fireballs at wooden targets. The ice was so thick it was in no danger of melting, and Dorian was an exceptional teacher. She learned more with him and Solas than she had in her entire time at the Circle, or so it felt.

"If I was your mother, I would be more inclined to scold you for the backtalk. Maybe force you to eat three square meals a day. Speaking of which-"

"Flissa had a delicious stew boiling, and _yes_ I did eat." She just happened to be very short and thin for her age, which had the unfortunate side effect of causing those around her to worry needlessly.

Dorian held up his hands in mock surrender. "If the Herald of Andraste falls in battle due to malnutrition, you know who they'll blame."

"You're not my keeper." She paused. "They'd blame Cassandra. And Cassandra would blame herself."

Dorian laughed. "You're probably right."

Eve smiled, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear. It was long enough that she kept it in a braid, but with the harsh winds, it usually came loose by dinner time. "Have…" She hesitated, then pushed forward. "Have you seen Alexius yet? I know you said goodbye to Felix yesterday. He was sad to leave."

Dorian pursed his lips, folding his arms once more and glanced at the snow-covered ground. "I did say goodbye. Likely the last I'll see of him. I daresay Alexius knows it, too."

She immediately regretted asking. "I can't imagine."

"It's all right. Felix was living on borrowed time as it was," Dorian said quietly. "No, to answer your question. I haven't seen him yet."

She held her tongue, though she wanted to ask why not, she wasn't sure it was her place to do so. Most of her own family abandoned her when her magic manifested, her brother Maxwell the only one who continued to visit and write long after the others had stopped. Or in the case of her father, had never come at all. She was a burden to them and was determined not to be the same to her friends she made here. In time, she hoped to call them family, perhaps. But Dorian was complicated, issues with his own parents, then losing Alexius as a mentor. The details were muddy but she never pressed, just as Dorian never pressed her for her own painful past. Aside from learning that they were extremely distantly related – a fact that delighted her as she _could_ call him family however far removed they were – talk of relatives was kept to a bare minimum.

"Do you think we can head to the lake in an hour or so? I want to practice for our trip to the Fallow Mire."

Dorian made a face, his usual cheer returning with the change of subject. "The swamp. Lovely, the places you drag me to."

"I could ask the Iron Bull to come as well. He could carry you through the marshes," she suggested.

"Maker forbid that ever happens." He shuddered. "Qunari spies in the ranks."

" _A_ spy," Eve amended. "And not on us. Besides, I trust Leliana to watch him." And she did. Besides, Bull had been upfront with her when they collected him and she was pretty sure if he was spying on them, he wouldn't have announced his intentions right away.

"Hm."

"You think I'm naïve."

"You are," he said with an easy smile. "But that likely comes from being locked in a tower your entire life."

"Half," she corrected. "And it was less of a tower and more of a-"

"Prison."

She sighed. Neither Dorian nor Solas approved of the Circles, not that she could blame them. They _were_ prisons, but after spending time outside of them, being hunted as an apostate, she missed the feeling of stone walls around her. Not that it was much better to be locked up with the templars, but it was preferable to running through the woods being chased by them. If only just. There simply was no good answer, though to hear Dorian speak of the Tevinter Circles, prestigious universities, it seemed ideal. She would still learn how to use her magic and protect herself against demonic possession, while enjoying the freedoms other people her age had.

"I'll see you soon," she promised.

"I wait with bated breath," Dorian teased, reaching up to tuck another errant lock of hair behind her ear. "Try not to kill anyone without me."

Eve made a face, barely stopping herself from sticking her tongue out at him before heading off toward the chantry. Cassandra would likely be inside, poring over the map in the makeshift war room. Josephine would be there as well, taking account of their allies and supplies. Either one of them would be up for a conversation, and she needed to know when they were leaving with the Redcliffe mages to try and seal the Breach. She made it halfway to the war room door when it opened, a voice filtering out before the tall, imposing owner.

"I still think that this is a mistake," Cullen was saying, obviously annoyed.

Eve ducked into a side room, door cracked just a sliver as she peered out. Andraste's Herald had no need to eavesdrop on important conversations, but old habits died hard. From being the youngest in her family and not privy to many discussions, to her time in the Circle, she learned the best hiding places to listen in and get information she otherwise wouldn't have heard. That was, after all, how she learned the templars were coming to collect her. Her parents had a heated conversation the night after the party where she threw a boy ten feet into a table full of canapés because he wouldn't stop pulling her hair and pinching her arms. She ran away that night, but Maxwell found her two blocks away, huddled in an alley. They spoke at length about what it would mean to be in a Circle and he convinced her it would be worse if she ran. To this day, she still wasn't sure if he was right.

"A decision was made," Cassandra stated. "We have the allies we need to seal the Breach and I see no reason to continue to rehash this."

Through the crack in the door, Eve saw the back of Cassandra's head, her hands on her hips. Cullen was just barely visible beyond her, but he was frowning. An old argument, one that they'd been having since she survived her trip into the future with Dorian. The Grand Enchanter was someone with whom she was vaguely familiar, but someone she trusted implicitly. She never cared much for her own First Enchanter, a doddering old woman who seemed so far out of the loop, but Fiona had a feistiness to her that made Eve like her immediately. Of course she was going to offer a full alliance to her kin. Some of the mages in Haven now were those she recognized from the Circle at Ostwick, and still several more were those she'd met on the run, searching for safety from the renegade templars.

She didn't need to hear this, deciding that whatever lay beyond this door was preferable to walking out into an awkward discussion in which she was the subject. Boxes and crates were piled up and she poked through curiously, finding a few odd trinkets, a statue of Maferath and another of Andraste, and three silk handkerchiefs. She left them all behind, not having a use for any of them, though found them interesting all the same. The stairs leading down were dark, the torchlight throwing flickering shadows on the walls. Of all the things that scared her, however, the dark had never been one. She was no stranger to traversing the corridors of the Circle at night in her youth, and endured the punishments when she was caught. Though she was hardly ever caught.

Remembering suddenly that she had no restrictions of magic here – it was a constant surprise to her when the realization struck – she conjured a very small green wisp to light her way. It flitted about her head, curious, wondering why it was called through the Fade, and Eve smiled fondly at it. Solas was only too happy to discuss the nature of spirits with her and she thought she had a better understanding of them. They were just like people and if you treated them with respect, they gave back much the same. She let it weave and bob, almost as if it was leading her instead of the other way around, and soon they were both deep into the holding cells. The wisp zoomed away from her, making a beeline between the bars of one of the cells.

"Oh, wait!" she called, jogging to hurry, then stopped at once when she realized why the wisp had moved so determinedly. "Er. Hello."

Gereon Alexius looked up from the thin bedroll, book in his lap, wisp in his hand. He looked her over with a critical eye, then stood, releasing the wisp which flittered out from the bars, hovering between them. "Hello."

She shifted uncomfortably, aware of what her presence down here might mean to Alexius, considering she thwarted his plans at Redcliffe. She'd encouraged Dorian to come see him, though was avoiding him herself, not wanting to seem like she was throwing her victory in his face. It was still surreal, seeing him die in the future, only to still be alive when she returned to the present.

"I… Are they treating you well?" she asked, the question spilling out impulsively.

Alexius gave a wry smile and glanced around the small cell. One hand gripped the bars that he leaned against, the other loosely holding the book at his side. "I have been fed, if that's what you're wondering."

"Among other things," she agreed. She had wondered as to his fate. Ferelden wanted nothing to do with him, and they were waiting on word from Tevinter. Proper channels, Josephine said, and protocols must be observed. "I saw Felix leave." No sooner had the words left her lips than she regretted them. He wouldn't want to be reminded of that. While her feelings toward Alexius were currently ambivalent, she didn't consider herself a callous person at all. The statement, she saw, stung Alexius though he maintained eye contact.

"He'll return to Tevinter," he said evenly.

"I'm sorry."

Through the dim light of the wisp and the flickering torchlight she saw Alexius raise an eyebrow. "Indeed?"

"I saw-" She hesitated, wondering if she should even bother bringing up what she saw in that awful future. "You kept a journal in the future."

"I've kept many in the past, though at present I seem rather unable to do so." It was the same even tone and difficult to discern.

She decided to push on. "You wrote about Felix. And the Elder One." She didn't imagine the flinch. "You said that you had to keep Felix safe from his wrath. That he could save Felix's life. That you-"

"I know my own thoughts, girl," Alexius said, his voice sharp.

Eve looked down and the wisp flickered out. "I'm sorry. I'll go." She started to turn.

"Wait."

Though the voice in the back of her head urged her to flee, she forced herself to turn back around. Alexius sighed, shaking his head as he moved away from the bars, retreating further into his cell. Eve took a tentative step forward, frowning.

"I'm sorry," she said again, though she knew what Cassandra would say to hear her apologize to this man. "I can talk to the others on your behalf. I know you never wanted any of-"

"Intention doesn't matter. Only the end results are what matters," he said, the words cutting through the darkness.

She approached the cell, wrapping her fingers around the cold iron bar. "I don't believe that. The ends don't justify the means and that rubbish saying about the road to the Black City and good intentions-"

Alexius chuckled, turning to look at her. "Wouldn't your Inquisition stop at nothing to bring the Elder One to heel?"

"No," she said at once. She'd already spoken with Leliana, urging her not to kill the man she called traitor. While violence was necessary in some cases, an eye for an eye wasn't the way.

"Yet you would speak on my behalf, when I've hurt so many to save my son. One would call that hypocritical of you."

"It's different," Eve insisted. "Felix is your son. You love him. It's not the same as… as burning down villages or slaughtering thousands to get to one crazy fanatic."

"Oh but the Elder One is so much more," Alexius said. His hands were clasped behind his back now, hood down and he looked much less intimidating than she remembered him, sitting in the huge Fereldan throne back in Redcliffe Castle. "I've heard the accounts of what he did in that future." His eyes widened excitedly and he approached the bars slowly. "The magic. It worked."

Eve swallowed hard but forced herself not to step away, not wanting to appear frightened of him, which she was just slightly. "Only within the timeline of the Breach according to your notes."

"A pipe dream," Alexius confirmed.

"Not entirely. You could likely make it work, given more time and research." She pressed her lips together, wishing she gave more thoughts to her words before speaking.

Alexius laughed, a deep, oddly soothing sound in the otherwise quiet darkness. "The Herald of Andraste suggests I should try again?"

"That's not what I…" She sighed. "The way Dorian speaks of your research, how you two would talk and how you'd teach him."

"He was a very good apprentice," Alexius admitted.

"I never had that." Eve could have kicked herself. Here she was, speaking to the man who more or less tried not just to kill her, but remove her from time. Were they actually having a civil conversation? What would Cassandra say? Or Josephine? She was supposed to be the face of the Inquisition, setting an example for the faithful. _For a Maker I'm not even sure exists,_ the quiet voice in her head added rather unhelpfully.

"What I know of the southern Circles, that much seems to be true," Alexius sympathized. "Had you been born in the Imperium, you would have had your choice of school to attend. Your family is nobility, I presume?"

She nodded, a painful knot in her chest tightening at the thought of her family now. Did they know she was alive? Did they care? She thought Josephine could possibly contact them, but other than Maxwell she didn't much care what they thought. It was telling that when the Circles were disbanded, she fled Ostwick rather than return home. "Dorian is teaching me." She purposefully didn't mention Solas. She'd never had a problem with elves, there were many in the Circle after all. But Haven was full of all races and with it came staunch racism. Dorian didn't seem to take issue with any of the elves, but what if Alexius did? Solas wouldn't thank her to speak so candidly to Alexius about himself.

"Oh? Are you getting anywhere?" Alexius asked, not unkindly. "He'll tell you he's brilliant and he's mostly correct, though I didn't think he would have the patience to teach."

"Mostly inferno spells. We've been melting snow and setting fire to trees." It was fun, too. Learning that magic didn't always have to be so tightly controlled was extremely liberating.

Alexius's mouth twitched into almost a smile. "I'm pleased he's happy, then."

Eve wasn't sure about _happy_ but Dorian did seem content in finding a purpose for himself. He was eager to see the Breach and help in any way he could. While some questioned his motivations – Mother Giselle for example – most accepted him as other members of the Inquisition were accepted. "We have a lesson soon. I was just…" She frowned, not wanting to admit to eavesdropping on the argument that led her down here. "Exploring a bit."

"A curious nature."

"Comes from being locked up most of my life," she said, then bit her tongue yet again at the carelessness of her words. "Sorry."

Alexius accepted the apology easily. "No need." He settled on the bedroll, crossing his legs, book in his lap. "I don't expect I'll be here much longer."

The implication hung heavily between them. Alexius thought he was going to be executed. Eve wondered if Cassandra would pass that judgment on him once Tevinter responded. Would they, like Ferelden, wash their hands of him? If she had any say in the matter, she would push for incarceration over execution, but who knew if Cassandra and the others would listen to her at all. "I'll see what Cassandra says. She's the Seeker, she's the one who declared the Inquisition. They can't just kill you."

"It happens and has happened more in the past than your inadequate history books would lead you to believe, and for much less an infraction than I have committed," Alexius said quietly, opening his book.

"I'll talk to her," Eve promised, a guilty feeling twisting in her gut. Alexius lost everything. Would he have to lose his life as well? That future, while horrible, never happened. She and Dorian kept it from happening. Fiona and the other mages were safe. The insult was personal, something Eve suffered at Alexius's hands. Why should Cassandra and the others have a say in the decision? She hoped Tevinter would respond soon and she would plead her case. "I'll come back. That is… if you wouldn't mind."

"I cannot see why you would want to," Alexius returned gently. "But it would bother me none to have company, I suppose."

Eve nodded, though he wasn't looking at her. "Tomorrow. Until then."

Alexius waved a hand and Eve hurried away, conjuring another wisp to see through the darkness, leading her back up the stairs. Alexius would have a fair trial, she would insist on his life. After all, being Andraste's Herald had to count for _something_.


	2. Chapter 2

Sealing the Breach drained Eve in a way she'd never felt before. She heard the shouts of the mages behind her, the cheering as the hole in the sky mended itself before she collapsed. A warm weight on her shoulder did little to comfort her, Cassandra pulling her to her feet. She was dizzy and exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to sleep for a very long time. The pounding in her head continued as Cassandra guided her back through the valley to Haven.

"They will want to see you," Cassandra said, and she was smiling ever so slightly. "I think perhaps you ought to rest first, then we will take the steps necessary in finding the one who created the Breach."

Eve nodded, thankful for that, raising a weak hand as they returned to Haven, greeting those who waved enthusiastically. Dorian stepped into her field of vision and she managed a smile as he took her other arm. He and Cassandra helped her into the small cabin she'd been calling home for weeks now and carefully deposited her onto the bed. Solas followed, closing the door behind him, and lit the fire with a simple wave of his hand.

"That's twice now you've managed something like that," Dorian informed her, impressed.

"It's a wonder you're still conscious," Solas added, pulling the curtain back to peer out the window. He frowned slightly. "Sadly I don't believe anything will help with the fatigue now except sleep."

"There's still so much to do," she protested weakly, still feeling obligated to do something. Even Cassandra insisted on her resting though, pressing her to the mattress. They were fussing over her and while she wanted to argue more, she was simply too tired. When she opened her eyes again, Cassandra and Solas were gone. "Hm?"

Dorian had moved to a chair near the fire, legs crossed, book in hand, resting on his knee. He looked up. "You've been dropping in and out for nearly an hour now. Try to sleep."

"Fallow Mire," she muttered.

"The swamp will still be there, unfortunately," he said quietly. He pulled the chair over to the bed and brushed her hair from her forehead. "We'll go once you've recovered."

She yawned, feeling warm and comfortable, and smiled up at him. "Everyone's happy?"

"Judging from the sound of the awful music and even more terrible singing? I'd say they're quite pleased with their Herald."

"And you?"

"I'm very proud of you, my friend," he whispered soothingly. "Now sleep. Or the Seeker will accuse me of keeping you from your very well deserved rest."

She drifted off again, listening to Dorian as he hummed quietly and the subtle rustling of the pages as he continued to read his book.

-

It was the war horn that woke her suddenly, jarring her from a dream that fled the second she opened her eyes. The room was dark save for a small white wisp above Dorian's head and the dwindling embers of the fire. He was on his feet, staring out the window, staff in hand. Hearing her sit up, he turned, a soft curse on his lips.

"You stay-"

"The Void I am," she said, shaking the sleep from her groggy brain. "Where's my staff?" Her fingers found the cool metal, the thrum of the magical energy comforting and familiar.

Dorian led the way out and they pushed through the throng of the people gathered, gaping at the mountain as hundreds of little black dots poured over the ridge. Eve heard Cullen issuing orders, people running and shouting, disorienting her somewhat fiercely. Cassandra was there, a bastion of strength and guidance, giving her instructions which she followed at once. The gate was opened, a strange boy introducing himself, giving a warning of something they already knew, and suddenly the most monstrous things she thought she'd ever seen surged across the lake. Abominations, but not the kind she saw sketched in old history tomes in the Circles. The first time she saw one in person, she'd been fleeing Ostwick, heading south, templars in pursuit. One of the mages with her tripped on an exposed tree root and landed badly, slicing his hands on the rocky path. She remembered his face, eyes wide with the sudden rush of power, and she felt it too. She begged him to stop, but too late, the deal with the demon was forged in an instant. In her nightmares, she heard the screams of the dying templars.

"What in the Maker's name is _that_?" Dorian asked, shocked and bewildered.

They didn't have time to contemplate the answer, Cassandra and the other soldiers rushing forward to form a line to stop the red crystal behemoths from attacking the scouts on the trebuchet. Eve remembered her training, fighting hard to keep her companions shielded, flinging fire carefully as not to hit anyone on their side. On either side of her, Dorian and Solas weaved their own spells and together they were a formidable team. But the fight was far from over even as the abominations and enemy templars alike fell to the ground. Cassandra shouted more orders and Eve followed, heart pounding, a stitch in her side as she raced through the snow to give aid where she could. The next several minutes or more were a blur in her memory, twisting her staff in her hand, slamming the tip to the ground to alight a fire mine glyph under the feet of an unsuspecting archer. 

"Watch out!"

Her head snapped up, a dark figure leaping directly at her, a shadow with pointed daggers. She hit the ground hard as something barreled into her left side, the wind leaving her body in a rush. Gasping for a breath that didn't come, she panicked, her latent magic crackling up around her in a shield made of pure electricity. Her hand pulsed with the strange green energy and finally she took in enough air to cry out in pain. Then she was being hauled to her feet by two powerful hands and saw the Iron Bull, his chest spattered with dark red blood, his two handed great axe dripping with the same.

"Not over yet," he said. "You all right?"

"I think so," she managed, realizing he'd just likely saved her life. "Thank-"

"Nuh-uh. No thanks yet, kid," he said. "Let's go."

They were pushing them back, the army of templars and abominations when a piercing screech cut through the night.

"A dragon?" she heard Dorian shout incredulously. "Well that's rather rude!"

"Everyone fall back!" Cassandra ordered, eyes to the sky as the dragon spewed a crackling red electricity.

Eve didn't argue. Her right leg ached as she ran and had to slow to compensate, limping as something in her knee protested the quick movement. Solas grabbed her arm to stop her, knelt, and let a pulse of blue healing magic wash over the wound. She saw the blood on her tattered pant leg and realized it must have been worse than she thought, adrenaline largely numbing her body's discomfort.

"All right, da'len?" he asked, seeming ready to carry her if she said no.

"Yes, fine," she assured him.

"Time to go!" Dorian said, half-dragging a wounded soldier as they escaped toward the town gate.

"Everyone inside!" Cullen shouted, waving them in. "Move! To the chantry, now!"

Shouts for help couldn't go ignored though, Eve calling out to Cassandra. Most of the townspeople had made it inside, but templars and their abominations were clambering over the walls. The soldiers could fight, but Haven held more than just trained and armored men and women. Solas and Dorian remained at her side as they tore through smaller packs of their attackers, pulling civilians from the rubble. Eve saw Flissa's panicked and wide-eyed expression and heard the hurried thanks before she limped toward the chantry.

"That is everyone," Solas informed her. "We must go now!"

Whether it was the truth or not, he was right. The dragon made another pass, so many buildings were on fire now, crumbling, the stench of burning wood and smoke permeating the village. They escaped into the chantry, though safety was a far off dream.

-

_"Know me. Know what you have pretended to be."_

She was dreaming now, she thought. Every muscle in her body ached and she longed to wake up. This was too painful. Memories of her time in Ostwick filled her mind and then faded away like fog rolling off the Waking Sea. Playing with her brothers in their estate's courtyard, the party that would ultimately lead to her incarceration, Maxwell's voice, begging her to come home.

_"Evie, you can't run. They'll find you."_

_"I'm scared, Max."_

_"I know. But it'll be okay. Just believe that the Maker has a plan."_

A pretty lie. So too was the mark on her hand. A mistake, an accident, a plan she foiled. They thought she was saved by Divine will, but that wasn't true.

_"Exalt the Elder One!"_

A towering, twisted abomination. Something ancient and most definitely evil. Something she'd never seen before, not even in the darkest corners of her mind during the worst, loneliest nights. A voice and a face that would haunt her now until he was destroyed, and perhaps even after that. And how was she ever going to stop him?

_"The_ will _that is Corypheus!"_

She begged for her life, embarrassingly enough. When the history books were written, would she be seen as a coward? A young girl who shrank away from this monster, who threw insults and threats randomly and unconvincingly while he laughed that deep, reverberating laugh that clawed now at her brain. Slowly she opened her eyes and realized she wasn't dead. Or if she was, that this most definitely was not the Maker's side. It was too cold for one, and for another, it hurt. She felt every bruise, every wound, her body battered and broken, and a sudden sob escaped her lips. Her eyes filled with hot tears that rolled down her temples, into her hair.

_"Don't worry. I'm here. I'll protect you."_

Dorian's voice cut through her thoughts, his arrogant, confident smirk replacing the terrifying vision of Corypheus. The memory of his hands, warm on her shoulders as he walked her through the motions of casting another spell.

_"Every great war has its heroes. I just wonder what kind you'll be."_

Solas, his quiet, wise words and countenance as they spoke for hours about the Fade and spirits. He promised to take her, to train her to focus her mind and magic to traverse the dream-world safely. The way he called her, "da'len" and smiled encouragingly as she tried to cast another spell just beyond her expertise. 

Other voices and faces followed. Cassandra, Leliana, and Josephine. Those she considered friends. Sera's laughter, Blackwall's promise to follow her, and even Bull's odd humor, cracking a joke she was sure was innuendo but was too naïve to fully understand. With concentrated effort, she rolled to her side and slowly pulled herself into a sitting position. Her head swam, a wave of dizziness passing quickly. She pressed her fingertips to her temples, letting small bursts of mana pulse from them into her head, soothing the ache there. Her body protested when she stood, and she looked around the odd cave. The sickly green glow in her left palm was the only light as she limped forward, thanking the absent Maker that there seemed to be only one path.

"Deep Roads?" she wondered aloud, her whispers echoing off the cave walls.

She hoped not. She'd read about them in the history books, the tales of the Blights and the brave Grey Wardens that descended into the Roads to stop the darkspawn from killing innocent people and tainting the land. She was only ten or eleven when she remembered hearing about the Blight in Ferelden, watching refugees pour into Ostwick while she sat high above in the Circle, safe from the darkspawn. They were fairy creatures to her, less real than the threat of demons though she hadn't seen a demon either until after the Circles fell. All the evils in the world seemed to manifest themselves into the templars that roamed the halls and watched behind their plate metal helmets, silently surveying their charges, waiting to cut them down at any sign of corruption.

A sharp spiking pain in her hand nearly drove her to her knees and a fresh wave of nausea struck her gut. She bent double and wretched, bringing up what little was in her stomach. Carefully stepping over the mess, she spat and wiped her mouth, stumbling forward, following the path that opened into a large cavern. The ceiling was too high for her to see, bluish lichen growing on the walls, the only other faint light aside from her hand. The mark – the Anchor – pulsed again and she gripped her wrist, wincing. Then she felt it, the aura of thick magic pressing at the Fade that she'd come to associate only with demonic presence. The already cold air thinned and became unbearably freezing, biting at her exposed skin through the rips in her robes. Two despair demons, their high-pitched wails piercing her brain like an arrow in her skull appeared at once, surrounded by several hulking wisps. Instinct took over and a barrier of pure magic surrounded her, though without a staff, she was less prepared, less able to focus and cast.

The first stream of ice from the despair demon knocked her off her feet and the mark pulsed again. Without saying how she knew to use it exactly, she thrust out her hand as if she were closing a rift. Not even Solas could explain entirely how it worked. In the next second, a rift, crackling with energy, split open out of thin air, sucking the demons into it like a whirlpool. And in the next one following, the rift closed, and they were gone. The mark fizzled, then faded out, leaving her in the dark save for the odd blue lichen crawling over the cave walls. Dumbfounded, she stared a moment at her palm, and wasn't sure if she should be relieved or not. The understanding was there: she could _open_ rifts as well as close them. Though right now it seemed she could do little of either, feeling drained, the mark quiet.

"Please," she whispered, though she wasn't sure who she was asking or what she was asking for.

Again she got to her feet and pushed forward, the temperature plummeting once more when the cave opened to the mountains. Far off and behind her, she saw the plume of smoke that must have been Haven, the village crushed under the last rockslide. But Corypheus survived. It would've been too easy if he hadn't, and heroes were never made that simply. She laughed at the thought, pulling the torn and tattered robes around herself as her leather boots sank into the knee-deep snow. Some hero she was, trudging through the mountains alone and probably near-death. The thought of her friends looking for her, worrying about her, kept her going, and teeth chattering, she pushed onward.

-

Consciousness happened to her in a series of random sights. A warm campfire. Footprints in the snow. Cassandra's voice. Cullen racing toward her. Panicking as wild thoughts raced through her mind. Would they send her to her Harrowing now? The flaming sword, the templar symbol so close to her as Cullen carried her through the snow. Her protestations, the struggling as she was passed from Cullen's arms to Dorian's, feeling safer with her fellow mage, then darkness again. Another flash of consciousness, waking to hear Cassandra and Cullen shouting at one another, Mother Giselle's comforting voice and her own, asking for either Dorian or Solas or both.

"Sleep, da'len."

Darkness once more.

Her dreams were decorated with visions of Corypheus and yet still more memories of her childhood, free from the Circle. Exploding fire spells and worse in the Circle, easy punishments of peeling potatoes, then harsher ones, including standing for hours on a small block of wood, unable to sit or lean on anything. Templars always watching.

"You need your rest," Mother Giselle said when Eve finally decided she had enough of her bed.

"I need to…" She had no idea what she needed, but it wasn't to listen to Cassandra and Cullen shout themselves hoarse, Leliana's strong Orlesian accent cutting over both of them. "They've been at it for hours."

Her head ached with the conversation that followed, though she trusted Mother Giselle, asking her what they knew, who Corypheus might be and where he might be now. Of course there were little answers for those pertinent questions and she came away from it frustrated and feeling lost. But none of it made her feel so lost as the new knowledge that her status as Andraste's Herald was now firmly cemented in everyone's mind.

_"We saw our defender stand… and fall. And now we have seen her return."_

Eve let Mother Giselle's words circle her brain even as the camp turned to her, their voices rising as one with the old, familiar song from the Chant of Light. Tears came to her eyes as she stood, watching them turn to her, kneel before her. Overwhelmed, the juxtaposition of thoughts both, 'I can't do this,' and 'I must do this,' conflicting inside her, it was a relief when Solas pulled her away for a quite word. Not that much of the following conversation continued that brief respite. More work to be done, the Anchor stemming from ancient elven magic and Eve promising Solas she wouldn't let elves become the target of ire due to Corypheus's malice.

"A castle?" she asked, once he'd finished speaking.

"The Inquisition needs a home. Skyhold will be its new haven."

Eve stared at him a moment, then finally laughed, the pun too awful, her emotions too erratic.

Solas smiled apologetically. "We'll have an early start."

"I think so," she agreed, scrubbing at her face. "Excuse me."

"Of course."

The next half hour was spent walking among the camp, allowing people to reach up and touch her hand, to thank her though for what, she couldn't say. For being Andraste's Herald, a point of hope for the future in an otherwise dismal present and rather horrific past. Death and destruction followed her; could she really be called holy? Questions for Mother Giselle for later, not something to contemplate now when they were cold and hungry.

"I think you need this more than I," Dorian said, casually approaching once she was alone for the moment. He held out the coat she made him.

"What about you?" she asked, but Dorian was already wrapping it around her shoulders.

"I'll take it back later," he promised. "Do you want to talk about it?"

They walked slowly away from the crowd, most of who were settling in tents to try to sleep now that she'd been found. Her own tent awaited her, but she didn't want to entertain the thought of sleeping alone after what she'd experienced. Besides, she'd only just woken and while still sore, she was mostly recovered. Apothecary Adan's doing, no doubt. She would have to thank the man yet again for her life.

"I suppose that's a no," Dorian mused.

They stood together on a small ridge overlooking the mountains. She remembered this darkness, away from the lights of the city when she left Ostwick. The moon and the stars above weren't nearly enough to illuminate the mountainside, but she could tell the Frostbacks were vast, and hoped Solas knew where to go. Even a large castle would be swallowed up easily in this terrain.

"I'm terrified," she admitted.

He slid an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. "If you weren't, I'd think you an awful liar. Thankfully you have me."

She laughed, looking down at the snow clinging to the hem of the coat. "Yes, thank the Maker for that."

"While we're celebrating my presence here, you should know that we're being glared at right now. Well, I am at any rate."

Eve glanced over her shoulder. She saw Cassandra and Leliana talking quietly near the fire. Mother Giselle however, was staring none too surreptitiously at them, and further off, Cullen had a wary eye cast in their direction. She turned back around. "I don't think he likes me."

"The commander? I wouldn't worry about that. He was only too happy to join in the serenade, lauding you as our great and glorious savior."

"And you didn't?"

Dorian clucked his tongue. "Far be it from me to deprive the masses of my marvelous singing voice, but Chantry poetry really isn't my style."

She wrinkled her nose and pulled the coat more tightly around herself. "Do you think we can win this?"

"I can't honestly say that I've seen worse," Dorian lamented. "One minute you're trying to patch the hole in the sky and the next an Archdemon comes to kick you in the head." Feeling her tense, he quickly changed tact. "If anyone is going to survive this, it will be you. You've got a lot of good people behind you."

"Like you?"

"That, my dear, goes without saying. However, I was referring to the others as well, including the ones presently not minding their own business."

Eve laughed again. "How the rumors will fly."

"Does it bother you?"

"No." She considered Dorian a good friend. Nice to look at and someone who made her feel comfortable with her magic. Any flirting between them was just that, and she was fairly positive he wasn't interested in her that way. Not that she was in a position to entertain the thoughts of cultivating a crush on any of her companions, preoccupied as she was with all the tasks on her overlarge plate. Romance complicated things, as she learned from her days in the Circle. And boys always took it badly when they were rejected, making her feel as if it was her fault that she wasn't ready for what the other apprentices got up to in the utility closets and darkened alcoves. A part of her now wished she had done more than just kiss a few, feeling young and inexperienced amidst all the others around her. Even Sera, who was her age, told boastful stories of the girls she kissed and bedded. "Only what they might say about you," she decided.

"I'm the Tevinter magister who's using you," he agreed.

"Not a magister-" She broke off suddenly, remembering. "Did Alexius make it out of the cells?" The idea of the man left for dead under thousands of pounds of rock and snow made her stomach twist. Luckily there was nothing to bring up, however.

"He did," Dorian said, his tone even. "I'm to understand that the Iron Bull dragged him up along with a few others."

Eve thought of the promise she made Alexius, that she would talk to Cassandra about him and visit him again. Though she knew how many would think she was crazy for ensuring the safety of a man who wanted to erase her from time. She pulled away, taking Dorian's hand and squeezing it. "Get some sleep. We have a lot of hiking to do tomorrow."

"Yay, hiking." The sarcasm was thick, but he tugged a strand of her hair affectionately before leaving to find his tent.

Wondering how many eyes would be on her now, she strode through the camp, searching for Alexius. Asking where he was would draw even more attention though, and when she found Bull first, it was only to thank him for her life. She would, she hoped, find the magister tomorrow as they travelled to Skyhold. Or at the very least she could locate the dungeon cells it would surely have and visit him there once they arrived. That thought in mind, she returned to the bed in the large tent where she'd woken and settled in for the night. However, memories of a hulking monster and the cries of his dragon plagued her dreams, turning them to nightmares, and sleep remained a vague hope for a long time to come.


	3. Chapter 3

The appointment of Inquisitor came as a shock to no one save for Eve herself. While she could close rifts and was learning to better handle her magic, she might have been Andraste's Herald but she was not Andraste herself. She would fight alongside the people surrounding her, but to lead them? And being a mage amidst this rebellion as well? Her eyes found Solas's, then Dorian's in the crowd, both looking at her proudly, reminding her a bit of her brothers when she managed to keep up with them in her youth. So it was that she raised the sword symbolic of her appointment and cemented what she knew would be the most terrifying chapter of her life, even more than the Circle had been.

Skyhold was enormous and in shambles, but perfect for their cause. Solas was right. The Inquisition needed a home, even if that home needed a bit of spring cleaning. She remained quiet, listening to Leliana and Josephine outline the next few days, Cullen chiming in with ideas for work orders. Eve dropped her gaze when Cullen looked at her and knew that she would need to address her apprehension with him soon. He hadn't given her cause to distrust him, but the principle remained. Leliana touched her shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile, suggesting she take a walk around the castle, mentioning that Varric had a contact she would want to talk with.

"Me?"

"You are the Inquisitor now," Leliana said. "You have made difficult decisions in the past and you will make many more before this is ended."

"Our trust in you," Josephine added. "A trust that is well placed. Show them confidence, even if you are unsure, and no one will question you."

"She'll be fine," Cullen said, offering a tight-lipped smile. "Excuse me, I should see to the guard patrol."

Eve stepped aside to let him pass, looking at Leliana when she laughed lightly. "What?"

"Our Commander is feeling a bit awkward today."

"Because of me?" she guessed.

Josephine raised an eyebrow, flipping through a few reports in her hands. "You did accidentally punch him in the jaw while you were half-conscious."

Embarrassment crept up her cheeks and she knew her pale complexion was currently bright red. "I did?"

"He has taken worse hits," Leliana confirmed, hands tucked behind her back as she smirked. "You may have been delirious."

She wasn't. She remembered seeing the templar insignia, being terrified that it meant she was being taken to her Harrowing, or worse, being brought to be given the Rite. "I was unfortunately aware. He still wears his templar insignia on his bracers."

"Ah," Leliana said knowingly. "Do you wish me to talk to him for you? Or perhaps Cassandra?"

Eve shook her head. "I'll go myself. I know he's not…" She let out a breath. "I know he's not like the others." But she'd heard of Kirkwall's Circle and what happened, as everyone had. Cullen was there when it happened. How many mages did he kill when the Right of Annulment was called for? How many of them had families and friends? "I'll find you both later."

"Very good, Inquisitor," Josephine said, using the title as easily as if she'd been addressing Eve that way the entire time she'd known her. "I will see about room assignments and work for cleaning up the accommodations."

"And I will make sure my agents are aware of their new duties. Will there be anything else, Inquisitor?" Leliana asked.

Both women addressing her as such felt odd but reassuring, and Eve breathed a little easier. "No, thank you both."

She left the throne room, not eager quite yet to find Cullen to apologize and explain her apprehension. It was embarrassing and she found herself with slightly more pressing matters. Exploring Skyhold and maintaining a presence was priority, as was of course locating the dungeons. With her new appointment, she hoped Cassandra would allow her to weigh in on Alexius's fate, and fulfill her promise to him.

-

The soldiers at the bottom of the stairs stood quickly and saluted, one of them brave enough to address her as, "Your Worship." She smiled lightly at them, moving past quickly without a word. To stop and explain why she was in the dungeons would make things more awkward than they were already. Better to let them think she was merely exploring the castle and let them get back to their card game. It was certainly draftier here than in Haven and she made a note to talk to one of the dwarven artificers about fixing that. Though, she reasoned, the dungeons were likely a low priority, all things considered. She saw him in the middle cell on the right, one of the few that were still in good condition. Alexius had his back to the bars, stretched out on the makeshift wooden bedframe. The frame, she noticed, while sturdy, lacked any kind of mattress or blankets.

"Are you cold?"

Alexius startled, glancing behind himself before turning around to face her. "Not very."

She fingered the sleeve of Dorian's coat, frowning a bit, then pulled it off. If Dorian wanted it back, he would have to retrieve it from Alexius. Maybe then they would actually talk to one another. Not that she was in the habit of mending broken relationships given her own history of family, but the way Dorian spoke about Alexius, it was obvious he still cared deeply for him. "Here."

Alexius paused as she stuffed the coat through the bars. "There's really no need-"

"I've been named Inquisitor. I'm sure I can afford another coat with the title."

"Inquisitor?" Alexius asked, taking the coat. He pulled it on. While it had fit Dorian perfectly and almost dwarfed Eve, it drew a little tight on Alexius, and came up just a bit short at the bottom.

Eve wondered if Alexius actually cared or if he was simply humoring her. How did he see her now? A formidable opponent? Or just a silly little girl with no idea what she was doing? If it was the latter, she could hardly blame him. Her title was a shield she would carry to hide the doubts and fears she held, and like Josephine said, present confidence to those who believed in her. Who knew, maybe the mask would eventually become her real face. Despite her fears, she knew she was capable and she wanted to learn more and train harder to become that formidable opponent that Corypheus would fear.

"It was hardly my idea." _So much for confidence,_ she thought, wincing.

But Alexius merely nodded. "All leaders must start somewhere. Many stem from humble beginnings."

"That's… that's oddly… thank you," she managed. She realized how she must look, her clothing torn, her robes burnt, leather boots tattered. While she survived the fight with Corypheus, the outfit did not. She crossed her arms self-consciously. "I haven't found a moment to talk to Cassandra yet."

"Still intending on speaking for me?" Alexius wondered, lightly touching the cool iron bars between them. "One has to wonder why."

"Because I think you deserve it."

"I tried to kill you," Alexius reminded her gently. "Many others in your position wouldn't hesitate. Some would wield the axe themselves."

She didn't have to pretend to be horrified. While she knew he spoke the truth, she never once considered it. She remembered the future, horrible though it was, and how Alexius was willing to barter anything for his son's life. She told Leliana to stand down, that if they could trade Felix's life for the amulet to return to the past, everything would be fine. But then Leliana had slit his throat and Alexius went mad with grief. Her palm splayed unconsciously over her chest, feeling her fluttering heartbeat, frowning as she thought of her own father. Lord Laird Trevelyan had not even visited her once in the Circle, nor written even a sentence to inquire after her when the templars took her away. She could die, she thought, and he wouldn't care one bit.

"Inquisitor?"

"Don't," she said, looking up. "Please don't call me that."

Alexius's expression was indiscernible. "Herald," he tried again.

She shook her head. Josephine would likely be tearing her hair out to hear this conversation. A prisoner addressing her without an honorific. "My name is Evelyn. Or Eve is fine."

"Evelyn." He inclined his head and bowed ever so slightly. "You may address me as Gereon, if you prefer it."

She liked his accent, the way his tongue hit the 'r', and repeated it in her head. "As to the why…" She shrugged, not thinking it a good idea to explain what happened in the future, how Alexius begged for his son's life. "I saw how much Felix and Dorian both care about you. What they were willing to do to help you. And I know how much you care about them. You're not a bad man."

Alexius raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. You think you know enough to render judgment based on the opinion of two headstrong boys?"

"Hardly boys," she said. "Men who know you very well. Better than most, I expect. Dorian told me a bit about you. About what happened to Felix and your…" She bit her lip. Though it happened years ago, there was no time limit on grief. Bringing up the man's dead wife while trying to convince him of his worth probably wasn't going to achieve the attended effect.

But Alexius tactfully did not call her on her faux pas. "You think very little of your own life if you aren't even concerned with the fact that I tried to kill you."

"If you succeeded, we wouldn't be having this conversation," she admitted. But she wasn't angry with him. Initially, perhaps. Though, she _had_ gone to Redcliffe Castle knowing full well he was going to either try to kill her or worse. Leliana and the others had said as much, and Eve played the bait as she promised. She wasn't sure she had the right to complain just because the plan worked a little _too_ well. "Also you weren't subtle. I knew what I was walking into."

Again he gave her that calculating stare that was impossible to read. "It was either the Maker's grace or sheer luck that I did not succeed."

"Or just Dorian," Eve added, grinning.

Alexius's smile was gone as quickly as it came. "His tutors once said that he was nearly as talented as he boasted. They weren't wrong."

Her own grin faded as she thought about the circumstances. "Do you think you would have regretted it? Killing me?"

He frowned, leaning against the bars as he thought. "Not at first. Your death would have been my reward. My son's life for that of a girl I'd never met before. But as the days wore on, I would have wondered about who you were. Did I kill another man's daughter to save Felix? When he learned of it, would he challenge me? Losing family is impossibly difficult. None of that meant anything if I could save Felix's life. But it might have."

She swallowed hard against the conflicting emotions rising now, swirling in her chest. "My brother would." And she made a note to write to Maxwell at the very least to make sure he knew she was still alive. "But I haven't spoken to any of them in years."

"Oh? Ah," he said suddenly. "Forgive me. Your Circles."

"They're hardly _mine_ ," she said, a little annoyed, though it wasn't his fault. "How… do mages in Tevinter handle their magic?"

"With grace and finesse."

"I suppose I walked into that one," she said, returning his light smile. "What I mean is that when I was ten, I was at a party my family hosted. There was a boy. I suppose he liked me, but he was a bit older. He kept pulling my hair and touching me. I told him to stop several times. Even tried to stick to my mother's skirts, but she told me that boys simply acted that way."

Alexius pursed his lips, a look of disdain on his face.

Eve continued. "When he tried to kiss me I yelled for him to stop. The shouting would have likely earned me a punishment, causing my family embarrassment, but I suppose that's when my magic got the better of me. I hadn't even realized I was capable of it, and he flew into a table. Broke his arm." She'd felt bad at the time, but the more she revisited that memory and everything that happened after, the angrier she became and the less sympathetic toward him.

"Good for you," Alexius said approvingly.

She gave him a grateful look. "Unfortunately no one else thought so. I was dragged back to my room and the templars came the next morning. So," she sighed, "how is magic handled up north?"

"Similarly, most children find their magic in a fit of emotion," Alexius explained. "Though their parents and other relatives are present for it and it's cause for celebration, not concern."

"Dorian said the Circles up there are prestigious universities." She spent hours daydreaming what it must've been like, difficult to imagine academies of magic instead of what he called, 'dismal little mage prisons.' Which, she had to admit, was what the southern Circles were.

"He was correct, though I believe he spent more of his time out of them than in. Dorian was a special case. Different."

"How so?"

Alexius chuckled. "If he hasn't explained why, it's not my place to do so. There are things in all our pasts we'd rather keep to ourselves."

"Oh." She wondered what it could be and filed the information away to bring it up to Dorian later. "That's his coat, by the way. He'll need to come see you if he wants it back. You don't have to give it to him. I'll make him another." She paused, then added, "Only if he stops by to see you."

"The Inquisitor is not above blackmail, I see."

Eve blushed. "Only when it comes to my friends making stupid decisions."

"Do not force the boy," he said, somewhat protectively.

"I think it'll be good for you both."

"Perhaps you're right. And still. You owe me no favors, Inquis- Evelyn. But it would be appreciated."

She nodded. It was odd to hear her full name, something she hadn't been called since she was quite young, deciding she preferred the nickname. And only Maxwell called her, "Evie," unless he was cross with her. "I won't push," she promised. Dorian's pride would get in the way, but in the end she thought the cold would win out. "I should go, actually."

"Of course. No doubt you're wanted in many corners of the castle and I've taken much of your time."

"Don't worry about that." Strangely enough, their talk had been somewhat comforting. It gave her hope to think that Corypheus possibly had more followers like Alexius. Those who only followed him not because they were fanatic cultists, but because he'd manipulated their desires. He was little better than a demon in that respect and Eve paused, suddenly thinking of something. "Did you ever try blood magic to save Felix?"

Alexius couldn't hide the affronted look from the abrupt and rather inappropriate question.

"Sorry, never mind," she said quickly.

"No." He frowned. "There was a ritual that involved blood, but only my own as we shared the same. To cleanse the taint from his."

"But no demons?" she asked tentatively.

Alexius drew himself up, hands at his sides. "No. Despite what you might have heard about Tevinter-"

"Dorian said as much," Eve relented. "Magisters who use the rituals to gain in power. And bleed their slaves. You just tried to save your son." She smiled. "And you wonder how I know you're a good man."

Something in his expression shifted – relief? Gratitude? Eve couldn't tell. She bowed ever so slightly, Alexius returning it before she left the dungeons, eager for a talk with both Dorian and Cassandra regarding the magister's fate.

-

"You cannot be serious," Cassandra said, looking at her, one hand on the war table.

Eve felt alone, though there were four sets of eyes on her. She knew she should've sought Dorian out, gotten his opinion first. At least with that she wouldn't have felt so isolated, even if he wasn't here to stand with her now. She caught Leliana's expression though, encouraging her, a slight almost imperceptible nod of the head, and she drew herself up to her full height. Admittedly this still made her shorter than Cassandra, but hopefully gave the illusion of confidence. "I've spoken with Magister Alexius at length. Despite it all, he's not a bad man."

"He tried to _kill_ you," Cullen insisted, fists pressed to the table, leaning forward.

She tried not to step away. The heavy oak table separated them, but his intensity quelled her righteousness just a bit.

"Perhaps we ought to hear what the Inquisitor has to say," Leliana proposed. "She is the only one other than Dorian who has talked to this man, no?"

"And Dorian's accounts are likely biased," Josephine continued. "If the Inquisitor wishes to plead a case for this man's life especially considering his attempted assassination on hers, it stands to reason that she has knowledge of his character or motivations that we do not possess that leads her to this conclusion."

"Thank you," Eve said, grateful. "I do. But a lot of it's private, privileged conversation between myself and the magister, as well as Dorian."

Cullen scoffed and pushed back from the table, turning away. 

Cassandra, however, softened a bit at her words, and her frown turned contemplative. "We have been asking a lot of you and entrusting you with decisions for this Inquisition long before we granted you the title. Considering the circumstances, you've done exceptionally well. I do not believe the Maker would have chosen you for this task if He deemed you unworthy of it. And we would all do well to remember that, myself included. I will support your decision."

The corner of Leliana's mouth quirked up slightly. "His magic was theoretically impossible. A mind like that working for the Inquisition would give us the edge we need over Corypheus."

"Not to mention any inside information regarding the Venatori," Josephine added, marking a few things down. "We only need to make it official now. The throne awaits you, Inquisitor."

Eve nodded, but her eyes strayed to Cullen, who had left the war table and wasn't looking at any of them. "I need to talk to Dorian before that. Give me an hour."

"Yes, of course," Josephine said, curtsying before heading out. She stopped at the door. "Oh, your quarters have been arranged. Through the last door in the hall and up the tower stairs. Additional clothing has been brought up, compliments of the smith."

Eve looked down at her shabby robes. "…Is there a bath?"

Josephine smiled. "I will arrange it."

"Perhaps two hours, then," she amended.

"Very good, Inquisitor," Josephine said, and left.

Leliana tilted her head as she surveyed the board, moving a piece toward Ostwick. "There will be whispers among the nobility. Rumors of your appointment. How shall we deal with them?"

Eve exhaled, a strand of hair falling in her eyes. She tucked it behind her ear and leaned over to look at the map. "I'd like to write to my brother. But otherwise say nothing. My family may try to use my name." She knocked the piece over, frowning. "They don't deserve it."

"Understood." Leliana picked up a stack of reports and left.

Cassandra looked from Cullen to Eve, whose frown only deepened. There was a questioning gesture from Cassandra and Eve waved her off. She needed to speak with Cullen anyway. She knew the thought of being alone in a room with a templar, while frightening, was largely ridiculous at this point. Besides, Josephine was in the antechamber just down the hall, and Eve was pretty sure she could scream loud enough for her to hear should she need to. Not that she thought she would need to. Cassandra almost shrugged, shook her head, then left. Thankfully, she did not close the door behind her, perhaps understanding Eve's discomfort all too well.

"Cullen." Not 'Commander'. Perhaps seeing him as a man and not a templar would ease her fears.

He turned around, hands on his hips. "I don't mean to question your judgment."

_Funny, that's exactly what you were doing._ But she held her tongue on that. "The decision's been made," she said, more bravely than she felt. The last time she was in a room alone with a templar, it had been for a punishment. While some of the others would receive lashings with a crop or a few whacks with a very thick paddle, she was nobility and treated differently. She'd been standing on a small wooden block nearly an hour, back and legs aching, stomach rumbling from having missed supper. The templar guard had just changed, and it was the older man with the greying beard and staring eyes. While she never suffered his humiliation, she heard stories about how he sometimes made the mages strip naked while they did this, or to take their beatings. The rumors continued into tales of worse abuse that even now gave her nightmares. "I'm sorry," she said quickly before she lost her resolve. "For hitting you."

"For what?" Cullen asked, momentarily confused. "Oh in the mountains. It's fine. It's…" He frowned. "Have I done something to offend you?"

She took a step back as he started to move around the table and was grateful when he retreated. "It's not personal," she assured him.

"Then it's… ah. I see." His brow furrowed as he looked down at the templar insignia on his bracers. A gloved finger traced the sword.

"I know you're not one any longer, but it's still…" She shook her head. "I need to find Dorian. Excuse me." Turning quickly, she missed the hurt expression on his face as she fled.

-

"Opulent quarters you have. Pity about the curtains though," Dorian remarked as he inspected the room.

Eve sat on her bed, drying her hair, dressed in fresh clothing. Linen tunic and trousers, a light leather coat for warmth and new fur-lined boots were all very comfortable. She was, however, missing her underclothes, and thought Harritt likely didn't want to speculate on what type of smalls she wore. Leliana would be the one to procure some for her, and she thought to remember to send her a note, rather than risk embarrassment requesting them face to face.

"What's wrong with the curtains?"

"Ghastly. Should set them on fire. I could help."

She laughed. "You know, you're welcome to use my bath whenever you like. Gatsi's men are working on getting the pump working so the servants don't have to drag up buckets."

He tore his eyes away from the interior decorating to give her a look. "You really do seem set on ensuring as many rumors are told about us as possible, don't you?"

"As if you don't appreciate the scandal it would cause!" she teased. "Hand me the brush?"

He picked the brush off the vanity and settled behind her, brushing her hair. "I can just imagine it. Mother Giselle would go mad."

Eve grinned, leaning back into his touch. "I do owe you an apology."

"Oh?"

"I gave Alexius your coat."

The brushing paused momentarily, then continued. "I expect it's a ploy to get me to speak to the man."

"That obvious? He made me promise not to push you. So this is me, not pushing you," she said, glancing back to give him an apologetic smile. "All right?"

Dorian sighed as she turned around again. "You are irritatingly correct though. I have no desire to see him in such a state, but I owe him that much. Plus I really do like that coat."

"I know you do." She drew her knees up, hugging her shins as Dorian braided her hair. "I'm going to officially judge him today."

"Heavy responsibility."

"I've already made up my mind. But how many more do you think will be brought before me in chains while I sit up on a throne? I was never prepared for that."

"I suspect quite a few more, provided we don't kill them first," Dorian said easily. "Hold this a moment."

She took the ends of the braid as Dorian shifted, then tied a length of silk around it she recognized as a decoration from his shirt. "Does it bother you?" she asked.

"Does what bother me? The braid? No, it's perfect, quite like everything else I do."

She rolled her eyes. "Killing people, Dorian."

He moved to sit next to her on the bed. "No. I generally prefer to kill those who try to kill me first. And of course, those who try to kill my very good friends. Of which there aren't many. You." He paused. "And Felix. And a magister in Tevinter who likely is dying to hear all the gossip. I really should write to her."

"The heat of battle is one thing," she agreed. "But to sentence them to death?"

"I find that some people are simply asking to be killed. I could likely name a few off the top of my head right now. But I see your point, and I wouldn't want you to change. You've a soft heart."

"It almost sounds like an insult when you put it that way."

"Nonsense! It's an admirable quality. Simply means that when life repeatedly kicked sand in your face before pissing on your head, you brush both off and get back up."

"Dorian!" She laughed at the rather disgusting visual.

"There we are." He stood, leaned over, and kissed the top of her head. "Shall I wish to be present at this judgment?"

"I'm going to invite him to work for the Inquisition," she said, returning the rather genuine smile he gave her. "Leliana says he'll need to be under guard and Cassandra warns me that not everyone will agree. I've already had to deal with my first dissenter."

"Who – ah. The commander, I expect?" He continued when she nodded. "He'll come around, I'm sure. He's irritatingly reasonable that way. Now my dear, do you need anything else before I whisk down to the dungeons to retrieve my coat that you gave away?"

Eve shook her head. "Only to tell the guards to bring him up to the throne room once you're finished talking."

"Consider it done." He paused at the top of the stairs, glancing around the room once more. "Seriously, think about the curtains."

She returned the wave as he descended before looking up. "I suppose I could bother Josephine about them," she said to herself with a sigh. Then, deciding to take a few minutes for herself before attending her duties as Inquisitor, she sat at her desk to pen a letter to her brother.


	4. Chapter 4

Eve didn't have time to check in on Alexius after judging him. She knew there were whispers about it, and even Alexius himself seemed surprised with what she had to say, despite having informed him previously of her decision. Josephine promised she would handle the details, arranging to have him moved to a more comfortable room to begin his work for them, and Leliana promised she would handle the whispers. That was the last she saw of him before her duties took her away from Skyhold. There was the matter of missing patrols in the Fallow Mire and on the Storm Coast, rifts to seal, and of course meeting the Champion of Kirkwall. When she realized who Varric's "friend" was, it set her knees to trembling. The man was a legend in the Free Marches after all, with everything he'd done and everything he was involved in, especially his concern for mages, the way he defended Kirkwall's Circle from the Right of Annulment. She was fairly sure she sounded like an idiot when she spoke with him, but he treated her kindly all the same and pledged his help to the Inquisition.

Ferelden, she realized, was cold and wet no matter where they were. The swamp was worse and when the bodies started rising from the water, it was another scene to add to her nightmares. Scout Harding had asked if she was squeamish about undead and Eve laughed it off. She hadn't realized the overwhelming stench of decaying flesh, how it made her stomach turn. Taking the Iron Bull turned out to be a boon, the Avvar man who wanted to kill her easily matched in height and strength. Solas and Dorian – both constants at her side now – worked well together with him to take their enemies down swiftly. She slowly grew used to fighting, the aches at the end of the day reminders of their victories rather than of Circle punishments, or worse, running from templars.

Stopping briefly in Redcliffe before they continued into Crestwood, she purchased two journals, both leather-bound. One of them was dyed black with a gold embossed dragon that reminded her of the stitching on some of Dorian's robes, and the other was much simpler, plain and brown. She wrote in the latter, filling it with thoughts about her tasks, how she felt sealing the rifts, and the occasional bit about her friends. It was reassuring to have her thoughts down on paper and overall made things easier to deal with, even conversing with the others who, after a few initial rough patches, seemed to be getting along fine now.

Crestwood, she realized once they arrived, was a horrible mess. The huge rift in the lake would take time to figure out, among all the other issues the region seemed to be having. Bull expressed some doubts as to the mayor's sincerity. _"Something's a little off with that guy,"_ he'd said. And when they approached the controls for the dam, his suspicions were confirmed. Darkspawn hadn't broken the controls, or if they had, someone had fixed them. She slept poorly the nights spent in Crestwood, and after taking Caer Bronach, she decided they needed to rest. Or at least she did.

"Does it hurt worse than usual?" Solas asked, approaching her carefully.

She knew she'd been tense the last few days and while his caution was understandable, it hurt to be treated like a wounded animal. If she hadn't been so used to his soft tone of voice, knowing that was how he normally spoke, it might have irritated her into snapping at him. As it was, she merely sighed and looked out over the ramparts, staring at the giant rift. "No, not more than usual," she confirmed. The magic in her palm was tingling and warm.

"May I?"

She uncrossed her arms and held her hand out. He took it gently and she could feel his magic pouring into it. "I'm glad you're here."

"You've been quieter than normal. Dorian grows especially concerned."

Eve frowned, looking at him, but Solas's eyes were on the mark as he tended it. "I've been thinking about what's to come. Endless days of sealing rifts and fighting demons. Things were simpler in the Circle."

"Simple does not always mean preferable." He released her hand which felt better, less stiff, and looked at her before glancing out at the horizon.

She knew Solas's opinion of the Circles, of anything vaguely resembling slavery or wrongful imprisonment. Though she agreed with him, it was more difficult for her to voice her misgivings about it. "I've been trying to keep my thoughts straight. Writing everything down."

"Perhaps your memoirs will be chronicled in the history books you enjoy so much."

She smiled, rocking on her heels a little, feeling restless now, despite the late hour. Her hand always pained her less after Solas looked it over and any small bit of praise from the wise elf made her proud of herself. "When we return to Skyhold, do you think you could take me through the Fade?"

"I have considered it." He clasped his hands behind his back and looked down at her. Though he was an elf, he was quite tall for his race, nearly at an eye with Dorian. "I'm afraid the Seeker would take issue with it."

"Don't worry about Cassandra. We can tell her it was my idea."

"Technically it was," he said, his lips quirking into a small smile.

"Then we don't even have to lie!"

He chuckled softly. "You should try to sleep, da'len. That rift will not be easy to deal with nor, I fear, the demons that guard it."

It wasn't quite an answer, but she didn't push him. For someone who claimed to enjoy sleeping as much as he did, he didn't seem to do an awful lot of it. Still, he was always on point and never flagged with fatigue, even when injured. Instead, she headed down the steps and knocked lightly on Dorian's door. It was rare that they weren't in tents, even in their strongholds. The fort was large enough to afford them a few rooms for the night. She waited until Dorian called for her to come in, then slipped inside. The expert masonry cut the chill at once, the roaring fire in the fireplace doing the rest to warm the room. Dorian sat on the bed, book in hand, and looked up when she closed the door behind her.

"I was wondering if you were going to say good night," he said, marking his page before tossing it aside.

She looked down, though the words weren't a rebuke. "I'm sorry if I caused you to worry."

"Do I have need to?"

Unconsciously she pulled her lower lip between her teeth, a nervous habit as she bit at the skin. She stopped when she tasted blood and finally looked up. "I don't know. It's still so overwhelming."

He patted the mattress, shifting to make room for her to sit and waited until she settled. "Tell me."

"Back in Haven it seemed simple. But now I'm actually giving orders and leading people. I've never done that, not even once in my life. I've always had people telling _me_ what to do. My mother, my brothers. Enchanters, templars. I just assumed Cassandra would be in charge and I could just…" She opened her hand and wiggled her fingers, miming closing a rift. "I didn't realize they'd all decide I was the best person for the job."

"I'm not going to insult you by asking if you want my honest opinion, but I am going to give it all the same," he said, taking her hand, wrapping his fingers around her own. "Cassandra is one of the most shrewd people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Not to mention blunt." He paused. "Extremely blunt. If she didn't think you were capable, she wouldn't have let it get this far. And," he added, ducking his head to catch her eye. He smiled before continuing. "She's not going to set you up for a fall. You must realize that at least."

"I know." She trusted Cassandra of course, and all the others. "It's nice to hear it."

"My dear, I will tell you it as often as you like. I never tire of hearing myself talk, after all. Besides." He squeezed her hand and released it. "As I've said, how badly could you possibly fail with me at your side?"

Eve laughed. Dorian was predictable and she liked it. His arrogance had an edge to it, something there that amused her while it annoyed most of the others. She sobered, thinking about a conversation he had earlier with the Iron Bull, something that struck her oddly then but buried itself away until now. "What you said this morning about Qunari."

"I say a lot of things about Qunari," Dorian acknowledged.

"Do they really sew their mages' mouths shut?" It was a horrifying thought. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, then frowned.

"You've admitted to having nightmares," he said softly, without mirth. "I shall learn to curb my conversations."

"No, don't," she insisted. "It's just… the Iron Bull, does he believe in doing that?"

The response was clipped. "Perhaps you ought to ask him."

She saw him straighten, his fingers curling into fists against the covers. "Sorry."

He sighed, shoulders slumping just a little. "My people have been at war with his for a very long time. Friendship won't come as easily as that, I'm afraid. Or perhaps at all. But I promise to be on my very best behavior and so has he. In not so many words."

"I'm more concerned about him and Solas," she admitted. "I rarely see him get so angry. And Bull seemed to lose patience."

Dorian laughed lightly. "Quite a team you've put together. The 'Vint, the oxman, and the knife-ear." Though he said the insults easily, there was no rancor behind any of them.

Eve brought palm to face, leaning over in embarrassment. "Maker," she sighed. "I could kick myself. I did that, didn't I?"

"You did." He laid a warm hand on her back. "It could have been worse."

"How?" she asked, her voice muffled.

"You could have invited Cole and Sera. I admit I am intrigued by him," he said thoughtfully.

"Cassandra wanted me to send him away. I think he just wants to help. Solas believes he's safe enough." She shrugged, not wanting to end up in a debate about what Cole was, whether or not he was dangerous, if he should be sent away or allowed to stay. She made a decision and while some – like Sera and Cassandra – didn't agree, she stuck by it. Cole didn't seem eager to possess anyone, and after hearing Solas talk about friendly spirits, those of wisdom and fortitude, she realized that not every creature of the Fade wanted to eat her soul like she was warned they would. The Circle, she decided, was a bit rubbish.

"Is there something else that's bothering you?" Dorian asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Alexius," she said suddenly, and was surprised to realize the magister was in the back of her mind. Not that he was occupying conscious thoughts, but he appeared there now. "When you went to see him, was it good?"

Dorian looked slightly taken aback and more than a little uncomfortable. "I wouldn't use that word exactly." He sighed, crossing an ankle over his knee, holding lightly to his shin as he contemplated his next sentence. "Tensions are high between us. We used to talk so easily and now it's less like how it was and more like how it is between my father and myself." He shook his head. "I never wanted that. Alexius is a good man, the best I've ever known and he raised his son to be the same way. That family was always good to me and now…"

"None of it's your fault, though," she insisted. "But I am glad you went to talk to him."

"So am I," Dorian admitted. "I expect we'll rebuild that relationship, though right now his grief is fairly palpable what with Felix and all. There was a letter."

Eve immediately felt ill and she knew at once what the letter must have contained. "I'm sorry." Her hand found his shoulder, then his back and she rubbed small circle patterns through the crisp linen shirt.

"It's all right," Dorian said quietly, though he leaned into the comfort. "It's surprising how long he lived, and at least we got to say goodbye. He did do one last thing, I'm told. A friend of mine writes how he went to the Magisterium and stood on the senate floor and told them all about you."

"Me?"

"I know! Why would anyone be interested in talking about you?" Dorian teased.

"I suppose I knew that people talk about me, it's just that I never think about it."

"Never?"

"Not as much as you do anyway," she returned, knocking against him with a smile. "Are you all right? You didn't tell me." She couldn't quite keep the hurt from her tone.

"You had other things on your mind," he soothed her. "Alexius and I spoke a bit about it, but I believe I'm just a reminder of Felix. I'm not sure how much good my visits will do him."

"I'll go." She watched him raise an eyebrow. "He can't stay locked away in isolation," she reasoned. "I doubt anyone else will go to speak to him unless it's to bring him his meals. And even then, Tevinters really aren't trusted."

Dorian let out a sharp laugh. "You don't need to tell me that."

"You should've heard the things I was taught in the Circle. Horrific blood magic rituals involving virgins. Demonic rituals, sacrifices at midnight, walking corpses that eat babies."

"Sounds like your typical Saturday night soiree," Dorian agreed.

"You're horrible."

"I really am. One wonders why you choose to be friends with the 'evil Tevinter' in the first place."

There it was. For all of Dorian's arrogance, one line of self-deprecation was enough to wash it all away. Dorian didn't often let his guard down, however, and she liked to think that he trusted her with it. Her hand found his and she squeezed. "You mean the one who saved my life and braids my hair?"

"Let's not spread that around, shall we?"

"Oh of course," she agreed, mocking. "Far be it from me to tear down the evil Tevinter stereotype and let people believe you actually have a soft heart."

"Lies," he said with a nod. "All of it. I am most definitely evil."

"You _wish_ you were," she returned. She couldn't imagine Dorian embodying any of the rumors she heard about Tevinter.

"Now isn't that true? It would've made living there so much easier. I find pariah-hood suits me though. After all, if I'd never left, I would never have met you or gotten to see glorious Ferelden."

Almost as if the country wanted to retaliate against his sarcasm, a crack of thunder sounded overhead and rain began to beat against the lone window. She glanced over, looking out at the pitch black. "I suppose I should try to go to bed."

"They do make potions for sleep if you're having trouble. Given the right herbs, I'm sure I could make one. Or perhaps Solas would be good enough to. Maker knows he likely has a full repertoire of sleep-inducing tonics."

The thought of being forced into sleep was even more terrifying than what her nightmares might hold. What if she had trouble waking from them? At least when she slept naturally she was sure she could pull herself out of any terror by screaming loud enough. "No, I'll be fine." She could tell he didn't believe her, but accepted the hug all the same. They said goodnight and Eve retreated to her room, shutting the door and the noise of the nightly patrol out. With a heavy sigh, she stripped her armor and fell into bed.

-

It was that templar again. His cold staring eyes, the scent of smoke lingering around his lips. Some foul Antivan tobacco that made his breath sour as he leaned close, leering. If it wasn't him, it was another, or demons tempting her to give in. Why not? After all, the templars had taken her childhood. She deserved to take their lives. The desire demon scratched at her mind, nails on slate with a promise of something more. The tobacco scent gave way to a hint of something else familiar. A combination of leaves and roots burned together to create what her brother used to call, 'Fairy Dust.' The blue smoke filled the small alley off their estate's back garden.

_"Evie, you can't run."_

She tried to call out to Maxwell, reaching for him as he raced down the alley. She was aware that this was not a memory, the push and pull of the Fade like the waves of the ocean. Before the Circle, when she used to sit waist deep in the waters of the Waking Sea when it was actually calm enough to do so. The sun on her face instead of being locked in a cold, dark room. The darkness promised more, but she never feared it, not when she had someone there with her. Maxwell's face ebbed from her mind, replaced by another templar's empty, helmet-covered eyes. A cruel laugh as a thick wooden paddle smacked against flesh, the sound of her fellow apprentices crying out in pain.

The commander stood in front of her, blocking her way out of the alley. He wore not the usual armor she recognized, but full templar plate, the flaming sword emblazoned on his cuirass. A bright orange glow flickered behind him, the burning remains of a village that they fled somewhere between Ostwick and Kirkwall. She reached out, hand on the stone wall to steady herself but shouted in surprise as her fingers came away sticky with blood. Cullen shook his head sadly and turned, walking into the flames. She called out to him and in a blink of an eye he was there, standing over her as she lay flat on her back. The scent of ash and blood filled her senses, thick and cloying at her throat as she tried to breathe. He knelt over her, his face flickering from his to the staring templar, to something wholly inhuman. He laughed, and she remembered the deep, echoing voice of Corypheus, mocking her, insulting her. Her body racked with pain, a spasm that left her limbs immobile. She tried to call out again for help, for Maxwell, for Dorian, for Solas. Anyone to save her. Her left hand exploded in pain, the verdant energy vivid and blinding; she could see it clearly though she was sure her eyes were closed. 

Another voice called through the darkness, footsteps approaching. She looked beyond the bright light of the Anchor and saw a silhouette. A gentle voice urging her to fight against the pain. She swallowed thickly, the taste of bile now in her mouth as she struggled not to vomit. The templar monster that was Corypheus disappeared, replaced by that silhouette, a man that came into her view, helped her sit up. The magister, the man who tried to kill her to save his son. She tried to say his name but forgot it all at once. He smiled at her and she wanted to warn him, that more templars were coming. They were both mages, they weren't safe.

_"No one is safe from you, mage whore. Temptress. Abomination."_

Echoes of another voice so far away. The knight-commander of Ostwick's Circle. A terrifying and austere man, succinct and sparing with words, orders barked and never spoken. They scattered like mice whenever he entered a room. His short black hair and scarred face, mouth set in a thin line. He let his men push the boundaries of what was appropriate, deeming a certain use of force to be necessary while the First Enchanter dumbly nodded her head from the sidelines. And when the Circles seceded, all hell had broken loose. She watched her fellow mages die, memories locked away, too painful to remember.

"Wake up!"

_"I can't."_

She sobbed, trying to pull away from the dark shadows that surrounded her limbs, forcing her to her feet, forcing her to move, to run. Skittering spiders large as wolves chased her through a rocky landscape. Her legs ached, her fingers bloody and scraped as she climbed through her dream. A beautiful, soft light like a beacon in front of her. Someone reaching out to help her up out of the darkness. A hand to hold onto, to cling to. A warm, flooding relief as she was pulled to safety and finally she opened her eyes, tears hot on her cheeks. Through the flickering, dwindling fire she saw a broad, bare chest and felt strong arms around her shoulders, a firm hand on her back.

"Breathe, boss," the Iron Bull instructed her. "I've got you."

It took her nearly a full minute to understand what was happening. Like always, the nightmare faded though the fatigue remained and she slumped against his chest, crying like a child. He was warm and solid beneath her hands, something real to touch while the terrifying visions released their hold on her brain. Another weight on the bed and she took a deep breath, recognizing Dorian's familiar scent. Almost like fire and smoke, but of the Fairy Dust her brother used to burn for her, not of the crumbling villages. She reached out and his hand found hers, another soft against her hair.

"The rift is causing the dreams to become more intense," came Solas's soft voice from somewhere nearby. "We cannot delay any longer."

"We can't leave in the middle of the night," Dorian protested.

"I'm afraid we have no choice. She will find no peace tonight with it so close. The Fade is bleeding into her nightmares."

"It's up to you," Bull said, tilting her chin up, a thick thumb brushing away her tears. "You up for killing some demons?"

She nodded, though all she wanted to do was to curl up in bed again, wrap all three men around her, and fall back asleep. She felt weak and pathetic, like the dainty princesses in her mother's romance novels. Waiting for some band of pirates to come rescue her from a boring existence in their father's castle. She refused to be the damsel, even if she couldn't forgo the distress. She would beat back the demons and seal the rifts, she would kill Corypheus and stop the Venatori and the red templars and anything else this Maker forsaken world threw at her. With renewed determination she pushed herself up from the bed, legs aching from tensing up during her nightmare.

"I'll-" She cleared her throat, her voice wavering from her tears, and tried again. "I'll meet you in the courtyard in five minutes."

"Right," Bull agreed. 

Though he still looked concerned, he left, Solas following with much the same expression, if a bit more contemplative. Dorian, however, lingered.

"I'm fine," she said, glancing at him before moving to the shallow water basin to wash her face. With little shame, she began to change from the soft linen nightwear to her robes.

"An almost convincing lie," Dorian said. He moved across the room to lean against the wall, arms folded, eyes averted to give her some semblance of privacy.

She brushed out her hair and tied it back into a tight bun, looking in the cracked, dirty mirror over the small wardrobe. Her eyes were a little puffy but otherwise her face held no evidence of her emotional breakdown. She pulled on her long leather coat and grabbed her staff determinedly before turning to look at him. The silence wasn't awkward, but it was uncomfortable. He wasn't angry, she realized, just concerned. In the Circle, her nightmares weren't nearly as vivid. The mark, walking the Fade, the rifts, and now the more recent memories of death and destruction, all of it made them almost unbearable.

"What do you want me to say, Dorian?" she asked, the question coming out a bit more harshly than she intended. "I'm sorry."

"From where I see it, there's no need for that," he assured her. He crossed the room and embraced her, kissing the top of her head. "I was only worried how long it took you to wake up."

"I didn't wake up right away?" The implications were unsettling. If a demon had seized control of her mind while she slept…

"We'll handle it," he promised her, holding her arm's length. "Once we return to Skyhold, I'll do a bit of research on it. Alexius might know a bit more than I about the somniari."

She'd heard the word from time to time in the Circle, and decided when she met Solas that's what they were like. But if she was one as well, or if it was just a side effect of the Anchor, too much strange and powerful magic drawing her to the Fade, whatever it was, really, she needed to learn to control it. She wouldn't fall to Corypheus and she certainly wouldn't fall to herself. "All right."

"Come. There's a great glowing hole in the Veil that requires your attention, and I daresay the Iron Bull would like to rip apart a few demons."

Feeling only a little better, she let him lead the way from the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Returning to Skyhold felt like a warm homecoming despite her exhaustion. After a brief conversation with Leliana and Josephine to get her up to speed on the situation in Halamshiral, she trekked upstairs to a hot bath and a pile of correspondence. Someone, likely Leliana, left several parcels on her bed which contained new clothing as well as underthings, and a small container of cosmetics. Eve looked at the small, ornate silver box, running her finger over the inlaid swirls that decorated the lid. For some reason, this more than anything made her feel better. Despite everything that was happening in her life, something as simple as makeup could keep her grounded. She put it aside for now and washed the last several days off her before turning to her letters.

There were more than a dozen invitations to parties that Josephine categorized for her with a note about her schedule. While she couldn't put off meeting with other nobles indefinitely – the rifts opening all across the south of Thedas were a bit more important – she could put them aside for now. There was a particularly long letter regarding the Winter Palace, complete with an itinerary for the next two weeks that would keep her in Skyhold dealing with the tiniest details until they needed to leave for Orlais. She raised an eyebrow at the list, wondering if Josephine would start to schedule every minute of her day now. While it was nice to have some idea of what needed to be done, she wasn't looking forward to seeing, "Three o'clock: Daydreaming" or something similar. Putting that aside for now, there were two remaining things at her desk: a letter from Ostwick, and a separate, small package with her name on it. She took up the former, a nervous fluttering in her stomach as she broke the Trevelyan family seal.

_Evie,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. We heard about what happened at the Divine's Conclave and have been in deep mourning for Most Holy these past few weeks. Mother is devastated at the rumors coming from Ferelden, and to think you were involved! We are, of course, relieved to hear that you survived that terrible ordeal. It's a shame it even got to that point, with the Circles rebelling. Why didn't you just come home? Michael has long since completed his templar training and would have been happy to watch over you until the Chantry decided what to do with the mages. You didn't need to turn to apostasy._

_There are even worse rumors, I fear. We've all heard about this Inquisition, started by rogue templars and other ex-communicates from the Chantry. I received your letter, but I can hardly stand to think that my baby sister is the cause of all this nonsense. It sounds like you've fallen in with a bad crowd, those who would try to undermine the Chantry. It's not too late if you'd prefer to come home. Mother would need to speak with Father about it but I'm sure we could convince him._

_I know we haven't spoken in a long time, but I will always consider you family, and you will always have a place with me if you wish. Trust in the Maker and know that He will guide you. It's not too late to turn from the heretical path you seem to be walking. We both know that Andraste wouldn't have chosen a mage to be her Herald, but it's a lie that can be forgiven if you just ask the Maker for that forgiveness and come home._

_Think about it, please, Evie._

_In Andraste's Love,_

_Maxwell_

Her hands were shaking as she placed the letter down firmly on the desk. This wasn't the boy she remembered from childhood. They would sing the Chant together during service of course but in the next breath they would blaspheme with funny made up lyrics. They would spend time together in the garden or in the woods and build tree forts and swim in the rivers and play Grey Wardens and darkspawn. Of course everyone had to grow up at some point so she didn't expect him to be still interested in making mudpies and playing pranks on their older brothers. But she didn't expect this. When she'd written to him, she poured out every fear and every doubt but also her excitement at having a purpose in the world. It was a heavy burden but she had friends who believed in her and trusted her and even loved her. She expected…

She blinked and immediately pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes to stop the tears. Several deep, calming breaths and she was able to process the complicated emotions without wanting to cry. So what if her brother didn't support her? Thousands of people, more than that, were depending on her. The whole of Thedas was in peril and she alone had the power to seal the rifts and stop Corypheus. It would take an army, a coalition of allies to do it. She trusted those under her command implicitly. None of them viewed her as a heretic. So many of them thought of her as Andraste's Herald. Even Mother Giselle who was the most devout person Eve thought she'd ever met believed in her. The mark, the Anchor, might have been a mistake, but for whatever reason she interrupted Corypheus's plan by being in the right place at the right time. If that wasn't divine intervention, she wasn't sure what it was. Mere coincidence?

Thoughts for another day, she decided, and carefully folded the letter before placing it in her desk drawer. If her brother truly felt that way, then she would need to either convince him otherwise, or go back to pretending she had no family like she had in the Circle. The other apprentices thought similarly, the ones who either weren't allowed to have family visit or the ones who, like the Trevelyans, eventually realized that the scandal of having a mage in the family was too much to bear. She heard some wild stories that were completely unbelievable, but understandable. Such as Qunari raiders kidnapping their entire family, or their parents running off to the Anderfels to become Grey Warden heroes. One of the younger girls told of her mother, a great beauty who had seduced some far off king who didn't want children so she was left behind. She insisted her mother would be back some day after killing the king and inheriting his throne. It was an unspoken rule that they never questioned the authenticity of the tales. Whatever lies made the Circle bearable were allowed.

She shut the drawer and her eye caught the small nondescript package with her name on it. The handwriting was not one she recognized and the script was closer to practiced calligraphy than any normal print. Curious, she pulled the thin twine away from the paper and something cool and metal fell into her hand. The size of a sovereign, it was attached to a silver chain and she turned it over. Inlaid was a red crystal that immediately thrummed with some type of magical energy and she ran her thumb over it. It felt like a rune stone from her staff, but different somehow. With it was a note that she picked up and read.

_Lady Evelyn,_

_Apologies for the informal greeting but as per our previous discussion I've refrained from using either of your titles. Please find enclosed the results of my research. I trust they're satisfactory. Your spymaster said she might let me stroll around without my shackles if they please you, but sing no false praise on my account. You should find the battlefield less taxing now._

_I'm also told that you're to thank for my lavish accommodations, as well as Dorian's visitations. While I remain unsure as to what I've done to deserve this consideration, I am thankful._

_With the utmost gratitude,_

_Gereon Alexius_

His name was signed with a flourish and she ran her thumb over the ornate letters, contemplating it. It was the opposite of Maxwell's letter, when it could have been anything else. Alexius had broken at Redcliffe Castle. She saw him beg for his son's life, overcome with grief when he realized Felix would die. In her judgment, he alluded to being accepting of his own death, deciding perhaps that there was nothing left in life for him. But Dorian said that he was always happiest researching, and there was a definite perk to the letter that appeared to be absent the last time she'd spoken to him. Interested in what the amulet actually did and with no other pressing matters now that her correspondence was taken care of, she tucked it into her pocket and pulled on her new leather coat. She paused, casting around the room for something, though she wasn't sure why she hesitated. Perhaps it was years of nobility bred into her at a young age, but for some reason showing up empty-handed asking for answers about a gift seemed a bit rude. A bottle of wine would have been appropriate she thought, but that would mean stopping to see Cabot – and the dwarf didn't seem to like her much – or the cellars. Then her eyes fell on her traveling pack and she remembered the black leather and gold embossed journal. It was perfect.

Excited now, she skipped to the bed where she'd tossed her pack and sifted through the random herbs she'd picked, the empty water skin, and ration bar packages to pull the journal free. She brushed a few crumbs from it and thought a moment before picking up her pillow. The sham was made from silk in the prettiest powder blue. It took some doing to wrap the book in a way that it didn't look sloppy, and she tied it with the same twine used to secure her own gift. It was thankfully small enough to fit in the inside pocket of her coat so that she wouldn't need to answer any awkward questions should someone ask her why she was bringing Alexius a present – a question she herself couldn't answer at the moment. Perhaps it was just returning a kindness though, a kindness for which she was grateful, the note and amulet driving distasteful thoughts and hurt feelings regarding her brother from her mind.

Satisfied, she headed downstairs to find Alexius's quarters.

-

The room was off the library, tucked back behind one of the tall shelves of books. She stopped only briefly to speak to Dorian, assuring him she was doing much better now, and invited him yet again to use her quarters if he wished for a private bath. He declined but thanked her and seemed rather pleased when she informed him she was off to have a talk with Alexius.

_"He could use the company."_

She knocked on the door which was perpendicular to an empty shelf and wondered what the room was originally used for. Skyhold was enormous and while she'd gone exploring, she felt as if she'd only discovered a very small percentage of the sprawling castle. Rocking from her heels to the balls of her feet, she waited impatiently. She heard the sound of a metal bolt sliding free and the door opened. Alexius stood on the other side, dressed in a simple black tunic and leather trousers. He looked less impressive but much less intimidating out of the Tevinter-style robes and hood. She smiled broadly at him, the amulet heavy in her pocket.

He opened his mouth, paused, and seemed to correct himself before speaking her name. "Evelyn. What might I do for you?"

Eve shrugged. "We only got back this morning from Crestwood. I received your gift. May I come in?"

There was a moment's hesitation in which Eve thought he would refuse her entry, but he stepped aside and opened the door a bit wider. She entered, looking around the room. It was large enough for a small bed, desk, and chair, and there was a staircase leading down to a lower level. She saw one window overlooking the courtyard with the stables, and it felt slightly drafty.

"No fireplace?" she asked, frowning. She imagined it would get quite cold.

"Downstairs. If you'd like to inspect." 

"I wouldn't want to intrude if it's private," she said.

"The research area," he informed her, gesturing toward it. "Your spymaster has already been by twice."

Excited to see what lay below, she descended the stairs. It was slightly larger than the room above with a currently cold fireplace, large cauldron, and three wooden tables. It was lit by a small chandelier that contained frosted glass bulbs, three spirit wisps currently flittering inside them. Shelves lined the walls, containing all sorts of oddly shaped glass and pewter jars. Wooden as well as metal bowls sat on a table while the other held a pile of books and papers, and on the third sat a strange glass contraption, odd vials and swirling bulbs with metal plates underneath. Underneath the table was a box full of herbs and candles, and the entire room smelled of elfroot and spindleweed.

"What's this for?" she asked, approaching the glass device.

He stood on the second to last step, hand on the railing, hesitating. "It's a distillation unit."

"For what?" She'd never seen anything like it before, and examined the swirling glass, the cork in the top one, the metal tube. She tucked her hands behind her back to keep herself from touching it, just in case. "How does it work?"

"Alchemical research, largely," he said, taking the last two steps.

She glanced over her shoulder at him before looking back to the unit. "Could I watch you use it one day? Not now. Oh, I wasn't interrupting was I?" She straightened and turned fully to look at him.

"Not at all," he answered graciously.

Eve wondered if he was lying, or if she'd caught him during a time in which Leliana allowed him a period of leisure. She wondered further if his schedule was as stringently laid out as hers. He was technically still a prisoner, but less so than those currently occupying the Inquisition's dungeons. She would have to look at their cases later, something she was not looking forward to. "I'm sorry. Should I go?" She was uncertain if her presence made him uncomfortable, which was the last thing she wanted to do.

Alexius crossed his arms, leaning against the bannister post, eyeing her almost critically. "I suspect you'll do as you wish."

It hurt a little to hear that and she wondered if she offended him. "Despite what you might think, I was bred with good manners. The Circle hasn't taken that away."

His expression softened. "Of course. I apologize. I meant no offense, simply I was wondering why you've chosen to come here."

She withdrew the amulet from her pocket. "I received this."

"Then your spymaster's runners are worth their salt." The tone was light and airy, with a slight bite of sarcasm behind them.

She smiled. "I meant I wanted to ask about it. I can feel the energy, but I don't recognize the signature."

"It is a lyrium infused rune," he explained, stepping forward and holding out his hand. He took it from her when she offered it, and turned it over, showing her the odd markings on the back. "A haste glyph added to that and the resultant effects are increased stamina, speed, and less mana used during your spell work."

Her eyes widened excitedly. "You made that from scratch?"

"Just a simple project to start."

She looked at him, dumbfounded, and wondered if this was modesty or arrogance. Admittedly her academic interests were centered more on history, fantastic tales, really. She knew basic arithmetic and enjoyed reading, but the heavier sciences never pulled sway over her. But if Alexius thought this was a simple project, what else could he do with more time and resources? "Put it on me?" she asked, turning around.

There was a long pause in which she thought he would refuse. It was almost as if he was weighing every decision carefully, perhaps thinking she was trying to trap him, that she would change her mind if he displeased her. She just wasn't that kind of person. She wanted to believe that he was good and had good intentions. It meant that not all of Corypheus's followers were like he was. That maybe they wanted a better life for themselves instead of the destruction of the world. Thoughts of the Venatori and their morality were interrupted as Alexius drew an arm over her head, careful not to touch her, or so she thought he was being overly cautious. He set the clasp and the amulet hung against her collar bone, pulsing with latent power. She turned and tucked it inside her shirt.

"I have something for you," she said, and pulled out the oddly wrapped journal. "Here. I was thinking about what you said when we spoke before."

His brow furrowed, he took it from her and plucked the bow loose. The silk cloth fell away revealing the journal and she watched his face carefully for a reaction. He was definitely a difficult man to read.

"Do you like it?" she pressed, hoping for a more expressive reaction. But then she was used to giving things to Solas, who would smile and thank her or Dorian, who would sweep her into a hug and boast about how of course she liked _him_ best. Not that she ever gave any of her followers anything overly expensive, and most had a practical use. The amulet Alexius gave her was certainly worth more than the journal in his hands. But, she realized, he was looking at it with what could only be described as reverence. She blushed, fidgeting a little with her hands, twisting her fingers together as she waited for him to speak.

"This is a very thoughtful gift," he said finally. "Thank you."

"I bought one for myself. Just a plain thing," she added. "I wrote about everything I've been doing. I thought maybe it could help you here, after all that's happened."

Alexius nodded, then looked down again and must've realized what the journal had been wrapped in. He raised an eyebrow and handed it back to her. She pursed her lips and grabbed it awkwardly, laughing a little.

"I didn't have anything else. Well, I did, but I doubt you'd want a book wrapped in my shirt or something." Mentally she kicked herself, and looked away as his expression went from confusion to amusement.

"No I daresay that would be more inappropriate than a pillow sham."

"Did you want to keep it?" she asked, holding it up. "I probably have a dozen more. Josephine insists my quarters should be 'befitting the leader of the Inquisition,'" she said in her best Antivan accent.

"Shouldn't they?" Alexius asked lightly. "You are nobility, after all. A powerful mage in charge of so many."

"Maybe that means something in Tevinter," she said, crossing her arms loosely. "They don't really care what your surname is in the Circles here. Not that it matters anymore, I guess." Her thoughts strayed to the letter in her desk, Maxwell's heavy words, and frowned.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to dredge up bad memories."

"You need to stop apologizing to me," she said, tossing the silk sham on the table next to the distillation unit. "I received some bad news. Family stuff. It's not a big deal," she added, lest he think some awful tragedy befell House Trevelyan. Felix's death was far, far worse than her own issues, after all. "You mentioned shackles in your note."

"Ah." Alexius set the journal down carefully and pulled two metal wrist cuffs from a shelf.

"What are those?" They looked like manacles without the chain, she thought, and tilted her head curiously.

"They restrict the flow of mana through runes and a clever application of magebane."

She gaped. "That's horrible!" She was familiar with magebane poisoning. It was a 'humane' tactic used by the templars when no other punishments seemed fitting. "They make you wear these?" She took them from him abruptly and cried out in pain as the metal seemed to burn her skin. They clattered against the floor as her fingers started to blister.

Alexius moved quickly, pulling a bottle from a shelf and took her hands gingerly in his own, applying the sweet-smelling ointment over the wounds. "If you're not careful, it can cause tremendous pain," he informed her.

"Yes, I think I see," she winced, then sighed. The blisters receded somewhat as Alexius massaged first her right, then her left hand, his skin a little weathered and wrinkled, a few light scars a contrast to her usually unmarred hands. "That was stupid. You must think me foolish." Not that his opinion should matter to her, but Alexius was like Dorian in a way. A free mage all his life, smart and capable. She felt inept at times, but instead of insulting her, they seemed eager to teach her. And Alexius, she thought, would likely want her to succeed, if only to bring down Corypheus, the false god with his false promises.

"More curious than foolish," Alexius said with a smile. He took a roll of linen bandages next and carefully wrapped up her hands. "They will be stiff and sore for a day or two. I'm sure your healers can look after them."

"Or I can just come back," she said, looking at them. She folded her fingers best she could, then winced as the skin pulled, and stopped. "You have to wear them when you leave the room?"

"The price to pay for my crimes," he acknowledged, leaning down to pick them up carefully. He tossed them back onto the table where they fell with an ominous _clunk_. "It certainly helps that I don't have to leave my rooms often."

"I'll definitely talk to Leliana," she promised. "You made this," she said, touching one bandaged hand to her neck, taking the silver chain between her index and middle fingers. "You want to help us. Right?"

Alexius smiled though it was somewhat sad. "I certainly don't want to see _him_ win."

There were questions she wanted to ask, but wasn't sure if she would insult him. Josephine said Tevinter stripped him of his title, but surely he was still a citizen. He had money, presumably an estate. _Slaves,_ she reminded herself, and pushed the thought away. If Dorian's family treated theirs well, Alexius certainly did, too. Not that it justified it. A moral conundrum she would have to deal with at some point, she thought. The other question of course was what Alexius was going to do once Corypheus was dead. Would the Inquisition continue? Would they have need of a top magical researcher? Would his debts be considered paid and would he be able to return? Too many questions and too much introspection, she thought. It made her head ache.

"I'll talk to her now," she decided. "She's just upstairs after all."

"You needn't-"

"Yes, I do," she said darkly. "I trust you."

The declaration seemed to take him off guard just a bit, and he nodded ever so slightly. "You have my gratitude, then."

"Yes, well, just promise me you won't hurt anyone unless they throw the first punch. And if they do, you have my permission to set them on fire." She'd already heard the names Dorian was being called that were circulating Skyhold. The sort of casual bigotry did not sit right with her, even though she'd grown up hearing about all the evils of Tevinter.

He laughed, letting her lead the way up the stairs. "There are more subtle ways to win a duel."

"But none of them are as fun," she insisted, stopping at the door.

Alexius smirked. "You've been spending a lot of time with Dorian, I see."

She grinned. "That obvious?" The grin faded. "I'll talk to Leliana and come back to see you tomorrow if I have time. Would that be all right?"

"I'm not sure I could stop you," he said, one eyebrow arched. "I would welcome the company. If you were interested in my processes…"

"Yes!" Eve clasped her hands together excitedly, or tried to through the linen bandages. "I would love that."

"Until tomorrow then, Evelyn."

The unfamiliar usage of her full name made her feel strange, but it was not unpleasant, she realized. It was oddly respectful, and she liked it. Impulsively – and later she would recall with embarrassment how awkward it was – she reached up and hugged him. Then, before he could react in either surprise or acceptance, she fled the room. Perhaps it was a side effect of the emotions her brother's letter evoked, or maybe it was just nice to know there was another person who didn't disdain her for being a mage, but she decided that despite what she'd been through with Alexius, she really did like talking to him.


	6. Chapter 6

Leliana at least did not deem the request unreasonable. She examined the amulet and looked at Eve's hands with sympathy. The decision was that since Skyhold was practically crawling with both her scouts and Cullen's troops alike, not to mention a bevy of other capable mages and templars, that Alexius would no longer have to suffer the humiliation of the magebane cuffs. Eve counted this a small victory and thanked her profusely, missing the intrigued expression on Leliana's face. She returned the next night to Alexius as promised to bring him the good news. He was as she expected grateful but at the same time curious as to why she was so eager to help him.

"It's inhumane," she insisted. "If we wanted you shackled, we should have left you in the dungeons. Since I decided you're my researcher and not my prisoner, you don't have to wear them anymore. And now we should celebrate."

"Indeed?" he asked.

They were speaking in his doorway, Eve leaning against the empty shelf that hid it from the view of the rest of the library. "Yes. It's always good to celebrate freedom."

He smirked. "And how did you celebrate yours?"

"By not dying in an explosion," she returned, keeping her chin up. She tried not to remember the names or faces of those she'd already mourned, people she knew that lost their lives in the conclave tragedy. She'd given instructions, coin, and soldiers to help clear out the mess and erect a memorial to those who lost their lives in both the Valley of Sacred Ashes and the attack on Haven. "But now I want a drink."

"The sight of someone such as myself sharing a drink with the Inquisitor in public may raise a few eyebrows," Alexius said lightly.

Eve frowned. She didn't want to be reminded of her title or position right now. She'd won a victory – albeit a small one – and wanted to share in the afterglow. Besides, she thought, Alexius should be overjoyed that he didn't have to wear those Maker damned cuffs outside the room. Not that he seemed to venture out all that much. That she knew of anyway. Maybe he only left when it was late and the library nearly empty. She hadn't seen him in the tavern for meals either, or in the kitchens at all when she went to inspect.

"Have you eaten today?" she asked suddenly. "Sorry. Dorian and Solas are always making sure I'm not overtaxing myself. I suspect I'm projecting a little." Even Cassandra, who admitted to hating being treated like a delicate porcelain doll, hovered sometimes. Eve put it down to her slight frame and shorter stature. She did present the look of a person who could use a few square meals, even if she felt sturdier and stronger now than ever before.

"Not yet."

"It's nearly lunchtime!"

"So the drink is now a meal?" Alexius guessed, though didn't move.

She sighed heavily. "I'll bring something up and we can stay safely ensconced in your evil magister's laboratory of doom."

He arched an eyebrow, smirking when she grinned at her own sarcasm. "Very well. But do have a servant bring it instead. The Inquisitor fetching my meals will draw rumors about influence mongering that you certainly cannot afford."

"Josephine makes sure my more shameful flaws never come to light," Eve assured him.

"I have a difficult time believing that any exist."

The statement was made almost offhandedly, but she found herself blushing at his words all the same. Stammering that she'd be back, she hurried away, taking the path that would bring her past Dorian's favorite haunt: a particularly gaudy and rather ostentatious chair upholstered in pink silk. In fact, there were no less than five chairs of the same type around Skyhold, and Eve was tempted to round them all up and have a bonfire right in the courtyard. Dorian was there, legs crossed, leaning against the arm of the chair, book in hand. He seemed to be daydreaming, however, his eyes slightly glazed over.

"Must be a fascinating read," she said, stepping into the alcove.

He looked up, the book falling closed in his lap. "Research, not pleasure," he said by way of reply, and stretched cat-like before relaxing bonelessly in an elegant slump. "And you?"

"Off to celebrate," she baited him.

"Oh?" He paused, holding out a moment before frowning. "Was I not invited to this momentous occasion? What are we celebrating?"

Leave it to Dorian, she thought, to invite himself. Not that she hadn't considered it, nor would she say no. Alexius was his friend after all. "I convinced Leliana to leave off Alexius's magebane shackles when he leaves the room." She wiggled her lightly bandaged hands at Dorian. "They're potent."

"Oh my," Dorian said, reaching out.

She let him take her hands and inspect them. "They look worse than they are. They hardly hurt. Alexius fixed them. My fault, really."

"I would put the blame squarely on Leliana," he said, then glanced upward, as if she could hear him speak and, Eve thought, she likely could. "But good on you for that." He released her hands.

"He hasn't eaten yet so I'm going to have one of the serving girls bring something up for both of us. Did you want to join us?" She grinned when Dorian gave a haughty sort of smirk, as if he'd won a victory by being formally invited.

"As much as I would normally love to sit and chat about old times, I'm afraid I really am in the middle researching."

"What's that?" She turned her head to read the cover. " _Studium et Distributio de Domus Nobilis_ ," she tried, tripping horribly over the pronunciation.

Dorian did not make fun of her and spoke the title in rapid Tevene, then said, "Loosely translated, _The Study and Distribution of Noble Families_."

She looked at him quizzically. "Going to make a family tree?"

"Too many rotten apples in mine," he said offhandedly. "No, I'm trying to find out who Corypheus really is. He comes from a noble Tevinter family and I've written my contact back home to try to get some perspective on this. She would have piles of books lying around. This one," he said, holding it up, "was donated by some Antivan dowager, no doubt looking for a marriage proposal from one of the Inquisition's more lofty members."

Eve pretended to gag. She was almost sure there would be more of those to come. When she was younger, she thought about marrying someone handsome and adventurous, someone who wouldn't want her to stay home all the time. They would travel around Thedas before eventually starting a family and attending parties and balls. She would do her hair like her mother's and wear the prettiest clothing. But her betrothal to some nobleman's son was cut short by the discovery of her magic, and she found she couldn't regret the loss. Even if she did enjoy the idea of the parties.

"What good would come of knowing his real name? He's just a monster Void-bent on destroying the world."

"That's where you're both right and wrong," Dorian said, tapping the cover. "If I can find out his real name, prove that his bloodline traces to one of the great families of Tevinter, we could possibly lean on that family for support. Sure some of my idiot countrymen will follow this madman to the Black City and back, but there are still more with sense."

"Blackmail." She frowned. "Seems a little cruel, considering they had no choice."

"That's why you let me handle it, my friend." He winked and let the book fall open on his lap once more. "Do tell Alexius I said hello."

"He's right down there," she insisted, waving her bandaged hand in the direction of the room.

"And I am right now here," Dorian said, not looking up. He paused, then did glance her way. "I'll visit him tomorrow. You enjoy your chat, though. I'm sure he'll be able to teach you more things that he ever could me."

"Oh?"

"I'm much too stubborn. You're more pliable."

She laughed. "You make me sound like a wet noodle."

"Never."

Eve could tell he was teasing and let it drop. She bade him a good afternoon and, feeling better for having spoken to him, went to seek out a serving girl and some lunch.

-

The next week in Skyhold passed in a flurry of correspondence, training, and following a strict schedule set by not only Josephine, but Leliana and Cassandra as well. She found time every day to check in on each of her close friends, preparing them for the ball at the Winter Palace. Her own feelings on the subject swung wildly from dread to excitement. If this was a mere party, she would be thrilled to get out of the castle and out of Ferelden. Even in the fussy country of Orlais where she could commit a dozen faux pas in a breath, she would still find enjoyment. However, the fact that this was less a social gathering and more about the ongoing civil war, combined with the fact that Celene was the target of an assassination plot, she found herself hard pressed to celebrate.

The arrival of several gowns for her to try on brightened her morning somewhat, but they came with a note to meet Cassandra in the war room for a matter of some importance. Setting aside the dresses for now, she wound her way down the tower steps and poked her head into the antechamber of the war room. Josephine was at her desk, speaking with a dwarf about lyrium supplies, and smiled up at her, waving her in.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," Eve said, stepping into the room.

"Lady Korpin was just updating us on the current situation."

"Your Worship," Korpin said before finishing her brief chat with Josephine and taking her leave.

"All's good then?" Eve asked. She personally didn't enjoy taking lyrium, and rarely got to the point of needing it unless she overtaxed herself by closing too many rifts in a day.

"There is a matter needing your attention. I have called – ah, here they are now."

Eve turned as the door opened, Cassandra and Leliana stepping inside, the latter closing the door before leaning against it. A nervous sort of anxiety pooled in her stomach and she forced a smile. She wondered if she'd done something horribly wrong and wracked her brain for what she did to cause offense.

"There had to have been a better way to approach this," Josephine said, standing up and gesturing to one of the armchairs by the fire. "Please, Inquisitor, sit."

"There is something we need to discuss," Cassandra said, crossing the room into Eve's eye line.

Eve sat, still feeling ill with apprehension. "It couldn't have waited until the next war council?" She'd already been debriefed and given her reports of what happened in the swamp and on the coast. While Crestwood had been a bit of a mess, they had men looking for the mayor now. Or maybe, she thought, this wasn't about her work but her nightmares. Had Bull or Solas told Cassandra about them? Or maybe Dorian in his misplaced concern?

"This is not about the mission," Cassandra said. "It is about the magister."

For a brief second Eve was confused. She thought Cassandra was referring to Corypheus and wondered why she would use his former title, one which implied respect. Then she realized she meant Alexius. "What about him? Has he done something?" When she'd given him leave to throw a fireball at anyone who attacked him, she was largely joking. Besides, Alexius didn't strike her as someone who would act violently without just cause. Their talks, though brief, happened daily since the first and she was eager to learn more about the equipment in his room, perhaps even make something for herself or her friends like Alexius had done for her.

There was an awkward silence in which Cassandra and Josephine exchanged a look. Cassandra shook her head. "Not as such, no. It is about your relationship with him."

Eve frowned. "Sorry?"

"What she means to say," Josephine cut in, "is that you have visited Magister Alexius every day since your return to Skyhold."

"And?"

"Given the nature of your position and his rather, ah…" Josephine searched for a delicate way to put her words.

"It's not appropriate," Cassandra finished bluntly. "Not that I care what rumors are spread, but organizations far larger than ours have been brought down by less."

"Sorry, what?" Eve tried again. She worked to wrap her brain around what they were saying, and laughed suddenly. "Wait, do you think-"

"We do not think anything," Josephine assured her quickly. "But the way it looks to those who know neither you nor the magister very well might see your visits as him using you. Either for favor or fortune."

"…He's been teaching me magical theory," Eve said flatly. Where there was confusion before, there was anger now. While she understood the importance of keeping up appearances, it wasn't as if she was spending all her free time with Alexius. In fact, of all her friends, she spent most of her time with Dorian and he was of Tevinter as well.

"While we know this, the way it appears-"

Cassandra sighed. "Even if you think his intentions are honorable, you have a duty to the Inquisition."

"I have a duty not to die in the field!" Eve said, standing.

"He has been helping us," Leliana said, breaking her silence and moving to join them. "We are not questioning that. But if you need more help with your magic, there are other tutors we can find you."

It hurt, the way they all seemed to be ganging up on her. It also felt accusatory, as if she was purposefully making moves to hurt the Inquisition. Her brother's letter flashed briefly in her mind and for one horrible second she considered just leaving it all. But it passed just as quickly and she took a deep breath before letting it out. "So it's just Alexius then?" she asked. "Solas and Dorian have been teaching me since Haven. Are you going to tell me to stay away from either one of them, lest the relationships become, 'inappropriate'?"

"Solas appears largely uninterested in…" Cassandra frowned. "And Dorian-"

"It's not the same thing. My apologies, Inquisitor," Josephine cut across Cassandra. "It is simply his actions in Redcliffe, rather than his country of origin."

It didn't seem fair. Fiona admitted herself that the decision she made – while poor – was of her own volition. Alexius hadn't forced them into anything and if anyone was to blame for forcing the mages into a corner it should've been the damned Chantry. None of them, not Josephine or Cassandra or Leliana, knew what it felt like to be hunted by templars after the Circles fell. They didn't realize the desperate choices that had to be made. Fiona's back was against a wall and indentured servitude for a few years was preferable to being skewered by a templar's sword. If Eve had been in her position, she likely would've made the same choice. As to everything else that happened in Redcliffe, King Alistair had laid the decision as to what to do with Alexius solely at her feet when he could've incarcerated the man for usurping the village and deposing the Arl. She would stand by her choice. And as far as the twisted future went… well, only she and Dorian retained knowledge of that world. Not even Alexius could remember, and he seemed disinclined to want to hear about it. Eve couldn't blame him. But if Dorian didn't hate Alexius or hold it against him, neither could she.

"You see what it looks like," Cassandra said.

Eve wasn't sure what to say. She knew what they wanted to hear, but she couldn't bring herself to say it. While their talks were somewhat tentative, listening to Alexius describe the way a spell was woven or how to create a certain trinket, or just hearing him tell an anecdote about his own studies, she found the time with him was relaxing. It was nice to feel normal, and that's what it really came down to. Dorian and Solas used magic and spoke about it as if it was as common as breathing. Solas was a little more guarded, but Dorian celebrated it. Alexius was much the same and he had a bevy of knowledge she could learn from.

"Perhaps if you would just see him less," Josephine suggested.

Cassandra shot her a look. "The results of his research will be brought to you directly," she told Eve. "There is no reason to visit him."

"Are we done?" Eve asked, promising nothing. "Because I have a very strict schedule to adhere to and I believe my afternoon ten minutes of 'quiet contemplation' is up now."

"There was never-" Josephine started to protest, perhaps missing Eve's sarcasm.

"Yes," Cassandra sighed. "We will talk tomorrow about the Winter Palace."

Eve turned on her heel, sidestepped Leliana, and stalked out. She went directly to her quarters, wanting to be alone with her anger and frustration. What she really wanted though, was to throw a fireball or two, but she had no desire to burn down the tower. Instead, she slammed the door and stamped up the stairs, pacing angrily for a few moments. _Inappropriate_ they'd said. Her fingers found the amulet that Alexius gifted her. While she hadn't had opportunity to try it out yet, it was still a thoughtful, helpful item. Why shouldn't she try to gain every advantage she could? Alexius _knew_ Corypheus after all. Any Venatori they could pull to their side would become invaluable with information. Leliana must have at least known that, having been the only other one who'd seen his worth.

Someone knocked on her door and she had half a mind to ignore them, looking at the array of gowns laid out on her bed, wondering if preparing herself for the Winter Palace would be a strong enough distraction from her irritation. The knock came again and she realized she couldn't ignore it, whatever it was. Sighing, she headed downstairs and opened the door.

"Leliana?" she asked, surprised.

She gave a slight nod. "Inquisitor. May I have a word?"

"Are you going to berate me like I'm a child?" Eve demanded.

Leliana smiled, hands tucked behind her back. "No. Not only will it not get us anywhere, I do not believe you deserve it."

Eve relented, stepping aside, and led the way back upstairs. She flopped onto the couch, tucking her legs underneath her, hands loosely in her lap. Her foul mood persisted and she twisted her fingers together idly, picking anxiously at the skin around her thumbnail.

"You have every right to be upset, I think," Leliana said, stopping to stand a few feet away. "Josephine's concerns lay with the appearance of the Inquisition while Cassandra worries the magister might corrupt you."

Eve snorted. "And what do you think?"

"I have spoken with him."

"And?" she asked, looking up, gripping her knees to stop herself from fidgeting.

"He is not a man interested in world domination."

Eve couldn't hold back her sarcasm. "You don't say."

Another smile. "His research and knowledge is a boon to the Inquisition, but not many will see it that way. You don't need to listen to Cassandra or Josephine, but you may want to consider alternative ways of speaking to Alexius, or avoid visiting when prying eyes can observe."

"Alternative ways."

Leliana gave a slight shrug. "My runners are at your disposal of course. Letters can be carried swiftly across the continent, and even more so across a castle."

She let her words sink in. Leliana was trying to help her, suggesting she continue to talk with Alexius, perhaps realizing that having a mentor was a good idea, all things considered. "I see."

"Shall I send someone later, then?"

"Yes," she said at once. She thought about the journal she'd kept and knew there were ones for sale from the quartermaster. Or Morris would just give her one, as he seemed so often nervous whenever she stopped by. "After dinner."

"Very good, Inquisitor."

"And the second thing."

"Yes? Oh, you are referring to visiting." She smiled. "The library, while truly never closed, tends to empty around ten o'clock in the evening. Helisma returns at eight sharp to attend her duties, but no one else seems to be interested in books until at least noon. Except for Dorian."

Eve smiled. "And he wouldn't care."

"No, I think not," Leliana agreed.

"On second thought, cancel the runner," Eve said, making a decision. "I'll handle this myself."

"Of course. Should you require anything else, you know where to find me."

She looked up at Leliana and smiled gratefully. "I appreciate it. Not just this, but everything."

Leliana returned the smile, inclined her head, and left. Eve contemplated her room a moment longer before descending as well, intent on tracking down another journal, this time one that she could share with Alexius.

-

The gardens at Skyhold were lovely in the afternoon, the way the light hit the gazebo, and it made for a very relaxing place to read or play a game of chess. Eve usually avoided it mostly because it's where a lot of the Chantry sisters would coalesce to talk, or more accurately, to gossip. A few former templars wound up there as well and she was disinclined to make small talk with them. Better she just make herself scarce. But today she sought the peace of the garden after her earlier morning. Armed with ink pen and new journal, she was intent on writing a few pages to Alexius, along with an apology for this unnecessary precaution. Then, of course, Mother Giselle waved her over.

It was only that she had respect for the woman, for her surprisingly positive opinion on magic and mages in general that Eve felt even remotely comfortable with her. She seemed to be what the Chantry should have been like rather than what it was. However, the conversation to follow was uncomfortable, Mother Giselle's distaste for Dorian being not so subtly masked by her concern. Though Eve knew little about Dorian's family, only that he wasn't comfortable with them, she had no intention of merely dragging him to Redcliffe to meet a retainer who might or might not be there to kidnap him and bring him back to Tevinter. She informed Mother Giselle, and took the letter from Dorian's family anyway. Dorian had a right to know, after all.

She looked between the letter and the journal and decided the letter would keep for now. Let Dorian have a few more anxiety-free hours. If he wanted to investigate, they could leave in the morning. As she sat on one of the stone benches in the gazebo, a sudden thought struck her. What if Dorian wanted to go alone? She tapped the pen against the journal cover, the rhythmic sound helping her concentrate. No, she decided. Dorian would at the very least want her to go with him. She would insist on it. Maybe she would bring Sera and Iron Bull too, just to cause as much an affront to the retainer as possible.

Assured that Dorian would allow and in fact be happy to have her come with, she opened the journal and contemplated what to write, wanting simultaneously to thank Alexius and explain as to why this method of communication was necessary.

 _Some leader I am,_ she thought wryly, feeling like an errant teenager having to hide her actions behind her parents' backs. Then again, she realized, she never really had the chance to _be_ a rebellious teenager, and smiled. Leliana encouraged it after all, so why shouldn't she engage in a little sedition? Feeling better regarding both the situation with Cassandra and Josephine, and the letter about Dorian tucked in her pocket, she started to write.


	7. Chapter 7

The hour was late but the library was, as Leliana predicted, empty. Even Dorian had gone to find entertainment elsewhere, perhaps the tavern which was full enough now to be heard across the courtyard. She spied Solas down below but avoided coming up from that direction, wanting to be as discreet as possible. Besides, he looked rather busy wrapped up in his writing and flipping through a thick tome. Feeling a slight thrill of nervous excitement and anticipation, she ducked behind the shelf and knocked on Alexius's door. It was a moment or two before she heard the footsteps behind it, the sliding of the lock, and he appeared on the other side.

"Evelyn?" he asked, clearly taken aback to find her on his doorstep at such a time of night.

"Am I interrupting? You weren't sleeping, were you?" she asked, taking in his loosely tied dressing gown and the slippers on his feet.

"No. I am in the middle of a potion, however, if you'd like to come in?" He looked a little anxious, gesturing to the stairs that led to his laboratory.

She stepped inside and closed the door behind herself, sliding the bolt home. Not that she thought there would be an interruption or that any of the Inquisition's members would be so rude as to simply stroll into his room, but locked doors definitely made her feel safer.

"What brings you here?" he asked, leading the way downstairs.

She followed him, sitting down on the stairs as there was no other place to do so. The only chair in the room was piled high with books and papers. The room smelled of something sweet, reminding her of a candy she used to enjoy in her youth. In the fireplace sat an iron cauldron, steam rolling from it, and the contraption on one of the tables was in use, dripping a green liquid into a vial. She'd never seen anything like it. To her, research had amounted to sitting in the Circle's library surrounded by books piled high, a wall behind which to fall asleep. This was exciting though, and she longed to go over to look or help, but didn't want to get in the way.

"To talk," she said simply. "What are you working on?"

"A rejuvenation potion. I developed one nearly a decade ago but I'm afraid I've forgotten the formula. It should be easy enough to recreate, however." He pulled out the crate of herbs and set a handful on the table.

"Can I help?"

He glanced over at her, considering a moment, then nodded. "Separate the leaves from the stem, then grind both into a paste. Use a one-to-one ratio of purified water. The jug over there. Everything's labeled," he said, waving a hand.

Eve jumped up at once and took the bushel of elfroot to another table to do as she was bid. Not many of her duties were as fun as helping Alexius create things and she knew she was merely a novice at all of this. "Only the senior enchanters were allowed to experiment with magic," she said. "I wasn't even Harrowed when I left the Circle." Though she was fairly sure Cassandra knew that, it wasn't something she would eagerly spread around. After all, if the templars stationed at Skyhold found out, they would look at her differently. A dangerous mage.

"Harrowed?"

Eve frowned. "I guess they don't have that in Tevinter."

"Judging from the name, I doubt it's anything pleasant. Another barbaric custom for the southern Circles?" Alexius tutted sympathetically, moving to the cauldron to stir its contents.

She hoisted herself up on the table carefully and took the mortar and pestle into her lap, grinding the leaves into paste as she explained. "It's supposed to be a secret, but some of the older mages told us about it. A test where they put you into the Fade to face a demon. You have to avoid getting possessed and if you pass, you get made a mage."

Alexius stopped stirring, looking at her incredulously. It was a moment before he was able to speak. "Barbaric doesn't even begin to describe it, I see."

It was odd, she thought, that someone would say that about a test that was considered necessary by the Chantry. "How do mages in Tevinter prove themselves?"

"Academic as well as practical demonstrations," Alexius said, pulling the cauldron from the fire and setting it down carefully. "Tests, like any normal school. We certainly do not force our brethren to single-handedly face a demon in the Fade. Knowledge against the unknown is power, a strong will is made stronger by learning and practicing your craft, not exposing untested apprentices to potential possession."

She remembered what Solas said when she asked if spirits and demons tempted him. No more than a brightly colored fruit is tempting you to eat it, he'd said. "What are you taught of the Fade?" She added the appropriate amount of water to the elfroot and stirred the mixture.

"The world of dreams and spirits," he said, holding his hand over the cauldron. A pulse of red energy emanated from his palm and spilled into the contents, causing them to glow brightly before fading. "Few bother to enter consciously except to seek out power. Those strong enough to control the demons are rewarded with that power. Personally I found spirits easier, utilizing those willing to assist in mundane tasks around the estate, or the occasional necromancy."

"Necromancy?" She wrinkled her nose. Dorian enjoyed the specialization, getting a thrill out of reanimating a corpse to make it fight for them. She didn't think she'd be all right with doing that, even if she possessed the capability. It was far easier and more acceptable to fling fire and waves of invisible energy that flattened or tripped up their enemies.

"Not a popular practice here, but rather more accepted in the Imperium," he said easily. "Is it finished?"

She hopped off the table and crossed over to him, handing him the mortar. He took it and carefully poured the mixture into the pot. She watched him work, stirring slowly as he added this ingredient and that, tapping the glass distillation unit, icing up a metal tube once it started to melt.

"Cassandra told me to stop coming to see you," she said finally, leaning against the table. She found a knot in the wood and picked idly at it, eyes averted though she felt his gaze on her.

"Yet you're here."

"I'm not her daughter or her prisoner. Not anymore anyway," she added, remembering the chains around her wrists when she'd first woken after the conclave. "She and Josephine think our relationship is 'inappropriate'." She looked up at him, expecting him to laugh it off or to make a joke, even. But Alexius wasn't really the type. He was much more introspective and serious, and there was evidence of a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. "Don't worry about it. I didn't make any promises."

"I expect that's why you're here so late. Though I admit I'm still having trouble understanding as to why you'd prefer to visit me here instead of spending your time at the tavern."

Eve shrugged. "I like magic." She grinned when the frown disappeared. Clearly it was a good answer, and a truthful one. "I like watching you use it. It's not nearly as flashy as Dorian's or as strange a style as Solas's. I want to learn everything I can. I'll need it to defeat Corypheus."

"Knowing a recipe for a rejuvenation potion will hardly prepare you for that battle," Alexius advised her, taking up the vial of green liquid. He tapped five drops into the cauldron and continued to stir slowly.

"Maybe not. But after I kill the bastard I'll need a hobby. Maybe open up my own shop or something." She was postulating. There was no real answer for what she would do once this was all over. The Chantry might rebuild, reinstate the Circles. Could she really go back, though? Maybe she could ask Dorian to take her back to Tevinter or something. She was already learning the culture. The idea of being locked up again was not one she wanted to entertain.

Alexius laughed, a nice quiet chuckle that made her feel at ease. "Your talents are far beyond that of a simple shop clerk."

She shrugged. "Plenty of time to think about that, I guess. But no, I came to give you this." She withdrew the journal she'd written in that afternoon from her coat.

"While I appreciate the gift, I'm nowhere near finished with my current one," he said, placing a lid on the cauldron. "That's finished for now. We should return upstairs where the fumes aren't so thick."

"I like the smell," she said, but followed him up. "This isn't just for you, though."

Alexius took the journal from her and sat at his desk while she settled on the slim bed. The mattress, she realized, was at least comfortable.

"Oh?" He lit a candle with a spark from his fingertips.

"Don't read it now!" she said quickly as he opened it. That would be too embarrassing. "Leliana suggested letters instead of visits. That way we could still talk often without my dropping by all the time. Of course you could always come visit _me_."

He looked at her, a note of incredulity in a raised eyebrow. "I fear your Seeker would find that much more inappropriate."

"Dorian comes to my quarters all the time. He even uses my bath." She paused, watching his expression change, the mirth behind the way his eyes crinkled. "What?"

"That is Dorian's tale to tell," he said gently. "I look forward to reading what you have to say, then." He laid a hand atop the journal and smiled genuinely.

She blushed, hoping the redness in her cheeks wasn't too visible in the dim light of the room which had suddenly grown quite warm. A bit of praise from him felt good, from one experienced mage to herself, a somewhat silly apprentice. Or so that's how she felt at times. "Speaking of him, his father wrote."

Alexius's brow furrowed now and the frown was back. "I've not spoken to Halward in some time. I left Tevinter somewhat abruptly. But far be it from me to speak ill of a colleague."

"I'm sure Dorian will tell you all about it when we get back."

"Get back?"

She kicked her feet idly at the floor, leaning back on her hands, stretching a bit. It had been a long day and she yawned, covering her mouth and apologized. "From Redcliffe. His father's sent a retainer to talk to him about going home. Leaving the Inquisition. He's worried, I guess."

"Convenient."

"Sorry?" she asked, head tilting.

"Halward was less concerned for his son's well-being when Dorian was still in Tevinter. Now that he's no longer there it seems his paternal instincts – excuse me."

She grinned. "The great stuffy magister isn't above gossiping, I guess."

He scowled though with no real annoyance, and then laughed. "There is little else to do at times, it seems."

"You could teach me how to dance." The Winter Palace would be upon them soon and she wasn't sure she remembered the dances she learned when she was a little girl.

"Pardon?"

She laughed and stood up, shucking off her coat, tossing it on the bed. "For the Winter Palace. I'm to be presented to the Orlesian Court for a night of dancing and negotiations. It's either going to be dreadfully boring or I'll have to stop an assassination attempt." She held out her hand. "You're nobility. You've attended parties, don't tell me you haven't."

"Not for some time," he admitted, looking at her hand.

Eve rolled her eyes and took his hands in her own, pulling him to his feet. This was the most they'd touched since the first awkward hug she'd given him. It was unusual for her, as she was used to being more affectionate with her friends. Dorian accepted it easily, embracing her, kissing her cheek or her head. It took Solas a bit longer, but eventually he learned to touch her arm or accept it when she leaned against him. After Crestwood, she'd gotten used to the Iron Bull, less intimidated by him and he often ruffled or tugged on her hair. And Cole always seemed to know when she needed someone to sit next to her and hold her hand. Only Cassandra resisted physical contact, but would occasionally pat her on the back to encourage her.

"Show me something easy, then." She put one of his hands on her waist and took the other in her own, smiling up at him.

Alexius looked lost momentarily, unsure as to what to do. "Very well. A simple waltz."

There wasn't much space, but enough that they could move to a silent beat. Eve dropped her eyes, watching their feet as he led her slowly, guiding her with a simple push or pull. The hand on her waist was warm through her thin tunic and felt nice.

"Eyes up, lest they think you uncoordinated."

"I _am_ uncoordinated," she said, but looked up, her eyes catching his in the candlelight.

"I doubt that." He smiled, squeezing her hand. "You have poise and grace, more than most young ladies your age."

"Have you known many?"

"Felix was your age once," he said easily. Though there was a slight wistfulness to his words, the usual crushing sadness when he mentioned his son's name was much less. "He had a number of admirers."

She recognized the note of distaste in his tone. "I expect you were just biased. After all, no one was good enough to marry him."

Alexius laughed appreciatively. "Indeed that is the truth."

She grinned, glad that she could make him happy. He spun her easily and she followed the next move with muscle memory long since buried. Twirling outward, then being pulled back in toward him, her back against his chest. She missed the next step, felt the back of his thigh against hers, and stumbled forward.

"Easy!" he warned, quickly wrapping his arms around her waist to keep her from spilling to the floor. "Are you all right?"

She gripped his hands which were splayed against her stomach, her heart racing with the near fall. "Fine. Just clumsy." The warm breath against her ear wasn't imagined, and she felt herself grow hot, goose bumps rising on her arm and over her neck. While she was used to affection from her friends, she instantly realized that this was different. And part of her – the one that overrode logic – didn't want it to stop.

Alexius thankfully either didn't notice or chose not to point out her brief lapse in concentration and released her, turning her around to look her over. "There is always a step forward after that move."

"…Thanks," she muttered, embarrassed.

"No need. We wouldn't want you to end up on the floor of an Orlesian court."

"As if social suicide is the worst possible thing that could happen to me," she joked. One of his hands was still on her waist, her own resting on his forearm. She looked up at him, eyes flicking to his lips then back up. It was unconscious and only a moment later she realized what thoughts were going through her mind.

"The games Orlesians play can be just as deadly as what the Elder One has planned." He stepped back, his hand moving from her waist to take her fingers gently. "Remember your manners, my lady."

Her eyes widen as he bowed, one hand tucked behind his back, his lips brushing her knuckles in the ghost of a kiss. Knees slightly shaking she managed an awkward curtsy. "Thank you, my lord."

"I believe you'll be fine." He released her hand and gestured toward the door.

Eve picked up her coat at once, hugging it to her chest, and let him walk her out. She stopped just on the threshold, laid a hand on his arm, leaned up, and kissed his cheek impulsively. "Thank you for teaching me. And for the potion lesson as well."

His expression was blank, unreadable yet again when he nodded. "Good luck in Orlais, and with Dorian tomorrow."

With several yet unidentifiable thoughts and emotions swirling inside her, she'd almost all but forgotten the letter regarding Dorian. "Right. Well. Good night." She winced at the awkward, abruptness of her statement. "I mean sleep well."

He nodded. "I'll send a runner with the journal once I've responded. Good night, Evelyn."

"Gereon," she returned, the name falling off her lips before she could stop herself.

There was an almost imperceptible smile before the door shut. She turned away, stopped, turned back, heard the door lock, and quickly left, suddenly feeling very hot and more than a little confused.

-

There was little time to contemplate her feelings while in Skyhold. However, after informing Dorian of the letter and agreeing to go with him – insisting, really, before he even had to ask – they were in an open-air carriage on their way to Redcliffe. Cassandra decided to come and Eve asked the Iron Bull to come along as well. If nothing else, she could count on him to step in front of a demon or a bandit or whatever else they were fighting. In reality, she felt better with him, Dorian, and Solas around when she had to sleep. Not that the nightmares were terrible in Skyhold, but out in the country closer to the rifts, they were always more potent. Last night though, she'd hardly gotten any sleep at all, and it showed now as she covered yet another yawn.

"You all right, boss?" Bull asked, sitting across from her.

She looked up at him, glancing to Cassandra who sat next to him, then back, forcing a smile. "Fine. Just tired." She could tell he didn't believe her, but seemed to get the subtle hint that she didn't want to talk in front of Cassandra. Glad that one of Cassandra's Seeker talents didn't include mind-reading, Eve thought she'd be hearing a rather loud, 'I told you so' if she knew what was going on in her head.

Next to her, Dorian's knee jiggled nervously and she put a hand on it, forcing him to stop. His hand covered hers and squeezed. They hadn't told either Cassandra or Bull the details, Eve feeling it was none of their business. Dorian explained it as needing to meet a contact from Tevinter, which was more or less the truth and was as good an excuse as any as to why Eve had to be there as well. They didn't talk much on the way down, having left very early in the morning. The secret mountain path Scout Harding discovered shaved days off the otherwise lengthy trip. Eve was sure she'd fallen asleep several times, the Iron Bull talking to Cassandra about troop movements and what to expect at the Winter Palace.

They stopped briefly to eat and change horses in order to make the journey more quickly, and when she woke the next morning, she was tucked under Dorian's arm, nestled against his chest. Cassandra was asleep, arms folded against the carriage, face buried in them. Bull was awake and turned around in his seat, watching the approaching town on the horizon. He and Dorian were in the middle of a quiet conversation, and she closed her eyes, letting the reverberations in Dorian's chest lull her gently.

"Sorry about all of it. I know family stuff is rough," Bull said.

"Qunari don't have families." Not quite snapped, but the edge of irritation was there.

Bull hummed thoughtfully. "Finding out you don't fit in with the people who raised you?"

Dorian swore in Tevene. "Don't."

"Just trying to help."

"Please don't." A defeated tone.

"All right. Boss is awake anyway," Bull informed him. "Sorry if that was our fault."

Eve sighed and sat up, stretching out her back and neck. "That obvious?"

"You were a little." Bull smiled. "Seeker's still out though."

"Best wake her," Eve said, covering a yawn. "We'll be in the village soon. I could use some breakfast."

Bull shook his head and leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he looked her in the eyes. "Not yet. What's up?"

"Hm?" Dorian asked, obviously having missed their earlier exchange.

Eve sighed drawing her lower lip between her teeth again. Her lips were horrible chapped now, the wind doing little to help. Of course her anxiety didn't help either, errant thoughts of warm hands on her back, her stomach, the feel of his skin on hers, his kiss against her knuckles that night. And of course some very interesting dreams combined with brief, albeit potent, nightmares, faceless templars and the laugh of a madman bent on becoming a god. A hopeless crush, she realized, but it was powerful nevertheless and she didn't quite want to admit it.

"I slept badly," she admitted.

Bull eyed her critically, and not for the first time she felt like he could read everything she was thinking. "Go ahead. It's not like he's going to judge you either."

"Would someone please explain-" Dorian cut off. "Are you all right?" he asked her, shifting so he could look at her properly.

Eve ducked her head, gripping the cushioned seat with both hands. "Complicated shit," she said finally. She nodded in Cassandra's direction. "My advisors have advised me to limit time learning from Alexius."

Dorian scoffed. "Typical. You finally obtain a tutor who can teach you practically everything you'd want to know and they limit your education because what? He's Tevinter?"

She nodded and Dorian rolled his eyes. "I'm still going though."

"Mm," Bull said, sitting back, one arm dangling over the edge of the carriage as he looked at her. "Could always take it outside Skyhold."

"His lab is in his room," she said, wishing they could change the subject. The way Bull was looking at her was unnerving and she was afraid of revealing something too personal.

"Maker, is he boring you with his science?" Dorian laughed.

"It's not boring!" she protested. Too loudly, she realized, as Cassandra stirred and woke. "Good morning." At least she had her excuse to change the subject now. "We're almost there."

"Good," Cassandra said, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "I could use about a gallon of coffee."

"Breakfast is on me," Eve offered. She noticed Bull was still looking at her and turned to Dorian. "Are you all right?"

"Just a little anxious to meet this contact," Dorian said, using the veiled lie to hide the truth from Cassandra.

Ironic, Eve thought, and wondered if Cassandra had it figured out. It seemed Bull had at any rate, and that idea worried her. If he could figure out what was up with Dorian, surely he could figure out what was going on with her. This time, it was her knee that jiggled as the carriage passed through the gates of Redcliffe.

-

The evening was an emotional one, Eve making the call that they return to Skyhold once Dorian spoke with his father. Bull lingered in Redcliffe, convincing Cassandra to stay behind another day as well to make sure the village was still doing as well as it should have been after all was said and done. Though Cassandra protested, she seemed to realize it was less about ensuring the villagers were all right and more about giving Dorian some time alone with Eve.

Eve held Dorian's hand loosely in the carriage ride back north, giving him an hour or so to process it all before speaking. "Are you all right?"

"No," he confessed. "Not really."

They spoke softly for a while as the carriage bumped up the barely paved road. Eve asked him quiet, gentle questions, slowly getting answers from him. The confrontation between Dorian and his father had been awkward and personal, and while she was glad she'd been there for him, the anger she held at the idea that Halward Pavus would use blood magic… Well, it was past them now, and he and Dorian had a tentative conversation once Halward apologized. Eve thought of her own family then, and wondered if any of them would ever apologize to her. _Probably not._

"I'm glad you talked to him, even if it wasn't everything it could've been," she said, and hugged him tightly. "Just… one thing."

He returned the hug. "Just the one?"

"The rumors around Skyhold about us. They seem extra silly now."

He laughed, the tension and sadness seeming to leave him at least momentarily. "My greatest scandal, I suppose. The Inquisitor, seduced by the evil mage from Tevinter."

She grinned. "I did have a small crush on you," she admitted, holding her thumb and forefinger up millimeters apart. "Tiny. Long gone now."

Dorian looked offended. "Gone? Nonsense. I am perfection personified. You'll never meet another like me."

"That much is true anyway." Her thoughts shifted to Alexius, and she found herself missing him. _If any evil mage from Tevinter seduced me…_ She abruptly shut that line of thinking off. "Anyway, now that my brother practically disowned me, I think I've replaced him firmly with you."

"I've never had a sister so I suppose that works out nicely," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Family is what you make it," she insisted. "I learned that in the Circle."

Dorian scoffed. "Well at least your Circles are good for that."

She agreed silently as the carriage pulled them back to Skyhold.


	8. Chapter 8

Eve tapped her pen against the paper atop her desk. A half-written letter mocked her. She sighed, leaning back in her chair and looked hopelessly around the room. It was three days since they'd returned from Redcliffe, Dorian his usual cheerful self once more. The finishing details were laid out for the trip to the Winter Palace and they would leave that evening. While she'd stopped by briefly to greet Alexius, she hadn't stayed long, just a few minutes to retrieve their journal and ask after his research. He assured her he was working on another piece and would produce results soon. Feeling not uncomfortable exactly, but unsure now as to her own emotions, she left soon after, not inviting herself in as she often would. Her excuse – needing to pack for the Winter Palace – was flimsy, and she hoped she hadn't caused him offense. Thinking she owed him an explanation, she started to write, stopping and scratching out a dozen lines before simply giving in to the nonsense that wanted to spill out onto the page.

_Gereon,_

_You must think I'm terribly rude the way I left you the last time we spoke. The truth is I'm not sure how to put this all into words and I'm afraid I'm failing at even writing it down with the time to collect my thoughts. I've never met anyone quite like you. Until the night we danced, I'd thought of you as a shrewd, intelligent mage who could assist the Inquisition as well as me personally. I still think that of course but now I see a warm, caring man who's suffered too much of life's cruel burdens. When you laugh, it makes my worries seem less. I work hard to make you smile, knowing you deserve happiness. And when you held me that night, I felt something inside me shift._

_I've only ever known boys in my life. Other mages in the Circle pretending to be adults and while they've suffered the same injustices as mages everywhere in the south, they made no attempts to grow beyond the awkward fumblings in darkened alcoves and broom closets. I have very little experience of it, admittedly, but the way you touched me as we danced made me realize that I_ want _to experience it. With you. I want to make you laugh and smile. I want to listen to your stories, I want you to teach me what you know, not only about magic, but about love and life._

_You likely are laughing, reading this, maybe thinking I'm stupid for feeling this way. But the problem is that I can't stop thinking about you. It's distracting how much I want to feel your hands on me again, wanting you to hold me the way you did, and wanting you to kiss me not as a friend or an apprentice but as a lover would._

_Some would call me mad for this, I know. Cassandra and the others already believe our friendship inappropriate, damning to the Inquisition, but I am willing to take the necessary steps to ensure your safety if we move forward. I'd like to move forward. I know you'll have misgivings but I promise my sincerity._

_Please consider it._

_Yours in earnest,_

_Evelyn_

She finished the letter, then stared at it a bit longer before glaring. It was stupid. Stupid and flowery and formal and just absolutely wrong. With a sigh she folded it in half and tossed her pen onto the desk, upsetting the ink pot. A few black drops landed on the back of the paper and she rubbed at it with her finger, doing nothing more than smearing it.

"Maker's breath," she sighed, inspecting her hand.

She stood and crossed to the washbasin, scrubbing the ink from her fingers, feeling foolish. Even if she did send the letter to him, what would he say? 'Sure, yes, I would very much like to fuck you'? She laughed at the idea of Alexius being so classless. It sounded more like something Bull would say, and she wondered why she hadn't fallen for him instead. Even if she'd chosen someone more appropriate it wouldn't have likely ended in anything but disaster. Her very short-lived crush on Dorian was a relief, considering his inclinations. Women, he said, were marvelous creatures but not for him. She hadn't been offended, merely curious. In the Circle she'd heard about it, what went on behind closed doors, but never felt that way herself.

No, she hadn't really felt that way about anyone until Gereon Alexius.

The fact that their second encounter included his trying to remove her from time was not forgotten. And if anyone found out about how she felt, they would likely be quick to point this out. But Eve was hard-pressed to hold a grudge. It wasn't in her nature, really. After all, as angry as she was at Maxwell, she was still contemplating inviting him to Skyhold to see the castle, to maybe try to convince him that the Inquisition was legitimately trying to help. Maybe then her family would understand that she was here for a reason, Maker involvement or not. Maybe if they saw her close a rift or fight demons, or help the refugees with food and clothing, or sat with the soldiers to improve their morale and thank them for their service…

" _Kaffas_ ," she swore, using one of Dorian's favorites, then smiled. She was doing good work; she had good people around her. Dwelling on her family now would be useless.

"You are good."

She spun quickly, pooling mana toward her fingertips, ready to strike, but just as quickly stopped. Cole was sitting on her bed, smiling from beneath his broad hat. "You startled me."

"I do that a lot. I'm sorry," he said. "Do you want me to go?"

"No, you can stay. Only I thought I would get in a small nap before we need to leave for the Winter Palace." She thought about this a moment. "Can you stay? I might sleep better if you're here to watch over me."

"The nightmares focus on you because of your hand. You're like a shining beacon that calls spirits and demons from the Fade, gathering around the Veil, pressing close to whisper to you."

It wasn't reassuring, but it made sense. She crawled into bed, pulling the covers up and Cole shifted closer to sit next to her and take her hand. "Can you see?" Since he could easily read her emotions, with her thoughts focused on Alexius, the turmoil she felt there, she guessed the answer.

"Yes. But they're private thoughts. I won't pry. Dorian says I have to learn manners."

"Does he now?" She smiled. "You're fine, Cole. But I don't want anyone knowing this. It could hurt him."

"He suffers too much already," Cole acknowledged. "He thinks about those he's loved and loss and left behind. The regret coils inside him, thick and tangled, tearing him down."

Eve curled up on her side, not letting go of Cole's hand and closed her eyes, frowning. "Is he just hiding it all?"

"'Got to keep up appearances. Show the spymaster I'm all right. Not going to hurt Evelyn. Not a danger to anyone except myself.'"

She opened her eyes again, sitting up. "What?"

"'The knife is sharp, shiny, silver. The cut would be quick, painless. Sleep would come soon. The potion is ready. Another project complete.'" Cole paused. "He makes the decision to start another instead of picking up the knife."

A cold, invisible hand gripped her heart, feeling the grief and despair that Alexius felt, as if it was flowing through Cole into her. She let out a dry, wracking sob and leaned forward. Cole's arms wrapped around her, latent magical energy surrounding them both as he let her fight through the pain. She wasn't sure if it was hers, Alexius's, or Cole's, but it _hurt_. Thoughts of a beautiful woman filled her head, brunette ringlets framing her face, her smile bright and warm. She was laughing one moment and in the next she was looking steadfastly over a funeral, holding Alexius's hand, a small boy at her side. The memories flashed through her so quickly that she was sure Cole was projecting them; they weren't hers.

"Stop," she begged, not wanting to see this, the intimate details of Alexius's past. It was too private and too painful.

_"I know he was your father, but he tried to hurt Felix. He deserved to die and you know it. Hate me for it if you must, Gereon."_

_"I don't. I could never hate you, Livia."_

"STOP!"

Her precarious emotional state caused her mana to pool incredibly fast. Combined with the amulet which she never took off, it made for a volatile combination and Cole was thrown unceremoniously from the bed. Anger was quickly replaced by regret and she flung herself from the blankets, kneeling on the floor, reaching for him. He flinched, but let her take his hand.

"Cole, I'm so sorry!"

"Yes."

"I didn't mean to. I only wanted you to stop. Forgive me."

"I do," he said, placing a hand comfortingly in her hair. "Was it wrong?"

"I just…" It was wrong, it was wrong to look at Alexius's memories, his past, to learn things that she never had the right to look at. But Cole didn't know. He was trying to help. He was only ever trying to help. She took a breath and wiped the tears from her face. "Don't do that again. Ever. Please."

"I understand." But he was sad; she heard it in his tone.

She pulled him into a hug, both offering and taking comfort from the embrace. "I don't think I can sleep after that. I think I might… I might take a walk now. And be alone for a bit."

Cole nodded. "Are you very angry?"

"No, not very," she promised him, and helped him to his feet. "Please don't tell anyone about Alexius. Could you… Can I ask a favor?"

"Yes," he said simply, though he seemed eager to perform whatever task she would ask, perhaps as a way to apologize for causing her distress.

"Please keep an eye on him while I'm at the Winter Palace. Make sure… make sure he continues to work on projects."

"And not the knife," Cole concluded.

"Yes."

"I promise."

"Thank you," she said, squeezing his hand.

He disappeared as she pulled on her coat and boots and headed out of the tower to clear her head.

-

She didn't have much time to think about what happened as they prepared for the trip to Orlais, needing to keep focused on the task at hand. The Winter Palace was a mess. Oh not all of it had been bad. The food and drink were fine, but the deaths of so many with hardly anyone batting an eye was unexpected. It was one thing to be told this was how things were with the Grand Game and another entirely to see it happen. Culture shock, she realized, was a powerful thing. She wondered if this was how things were in Tevinter, as Dorian seemed to be handling it well. Solas, likewise, did not appear bothered by any of it, though they both seemed happy with her negotiations. Reuniting Briala and Celene once she realized the nature of their relationship was an easy decision for her to make. She only hoped she made the right choice to cease any further turmoil in the country.

Despite the ordeal, Cassandra assured her she'd done well, and Josephine complimented her on how she handled the court and the nobles present. Making a good impression was certainly a priority, as the Inquisition couldn't afford to lose allies. In fact, several noble houses declared for them due to Eve's affable nature. She spoke at length with Leliana about the fashion in the court, glad that her own outfit was modest, though she did wish she could've worn one of the gowns she'd packed. They were put to use in the many smaller salons leading up to the ball, however.

Dancing with Florianne was awkward but useful, and in the end she was glad to stop the Grand Duchess from trying to kill Celene. Her plots were as mad as the man she chose to follow, after all. And while all these dealings were rather shocking, nothing was more so than Cullen offering to dance with her in the end. Still somewhat wary of templars, ex- or otherwise, she turned him down as graciously as she could, then spent the rest of the evening by Dorian's side, who found it rather amusing.

"Do you think he's interested in you?"

"Don't," she warned him, not wanting to entertain the idea. Not when she was having so many confusing thoughts about Alexius.

"Oh but can you just imagine it. The Circle mage and the ex-templar. It's a bit of a tawdry romance novel, isn't it? I bet Varric could write that. Maybe even work in how you two met in the Circle."

"We did not," she said flatly, taking his arm. There would, of course, be more rumors. She didn't care. Better that the Orlesian Court think she was with Dorian – a self-proclaimed pariah working against other Tevinters – than let anyone discover the real truth.

"I _know_ that, dear. It's for the sake of the narrative! No?" He frowned when she shook her head. "Honestly the Commander is a bit of a toothless puppy. I'm not sure why you're so frightened of him. But if you're not interested in him and he's backed off, there is no need to cling to my arm, though I must say I should be holding to _your_ arm, all things considered."

"Like a shiny trinket," she confirmed, feeling a little better. "He accepted my declination and is trying to avoid his fan club at the moment."

Dorian _tsk_ ed. "Perhaps that's why he asked you in the first place. Though maybe he does have inclinations toward you."

"He was probably trying to be nice," she reasoned. "We don't talk much. My fault." At the very least, Cullen did forgive her for hitting him all those weeks ago. Still, they didn't have a very good working relationship and a lot of his reports came to her through Cassandra or Leliana. She sighed. "I should go dance with him."

"Only if you want, not out of obligation for his feelings."

"How do you do that?" she wondered. Dorian made an art form out of avoiding responsibilities, and seemed not to care what most people thought about him. It was the smokescreen she was mostly interested in, wondering how difficult it would be to put up an illusory wall like that.

"Look so good in this awful shade of red? It's a talent." He winked.

She shook her head, pulled him down to kiss his cheek, and headed off to find Cullen. The night was winding down, fireworks exploding off the horizon, the crowd cheering excitedly. Nodding to those who greeted her, she finally found him on a balcony alone, nursing a glass of champagne.

"Cullen?" She still felt a little apprehensive, but the doors to the balcony were open, and the trellis was climbable. _And it's absurd I had to think of escape routes from my commander. Even if Bull would be proud._

Cullen turned around, recognized her, and gave a wan smile. "Inquisitor."

"You can call me Eve, you know."

He nodded, set the champagne glass aside, and looked at her with a slightly somber expression. "If I offended you with my earlier offer, I do apologize."

"No, I would like to dance. And I owe you an apology, not the other way around. Shall we?" She offered her hand and would have curtsied had she been wearing a dress instead of the uniform trousers and boots.

He looked surprised, but he gave a quick if slightly clumsy bow before taking her hand. The music filtering from inside was just loud enough to hear but not overpowering to drown out conversation. She took a breath as he held the small of her back, taking her other hand in his own. Fear, even irrational fear, was difficult to deal with. In her mind she continued to repeat that he was no longer a templar, that he wouldn't use his abilities on her, that she was in no danger.

"You've been nothing but kind and patient with me," she said quietly. "I'm sorry. I should have talked to you a lot sooner."

"I understand. I didn't want to press for fear of making you uncomfortable."

"Still," she conceded, "if we're to have a working relationship, I can't cower in my room every time you come to me with a report. I'll try to do better."

"If I may speak candidly," he started, his eyes up but staring somewhere over her head.

"Please do." She found the sash across his chest easier to concentrate on as her feet moved of their own volition. The music thrummed in the back of her mind, unconsciously keeping the beat. Focusing on the satin blue sash was difficult, her thoughts wanting to stray to the last man who held her like this.

"I'd not heard anything regarding Ostwick's Circle. When I was made de facto Knight-Commander after… after all that happened in Kirkwall, we sent runners all over the Free Marches. When your Circle fell-"

"I'm not talking about that," she said, her chest constricting painfully with the memories. "I've enough trouble sleeping as it is."

"I understand. I'm sorry."

They fell into a somewhat uncomfortable, awkward silence for a moment and Eve almost wished she'd remained a coward at Dorian's side.

"We fled when the news hit. Some stayed. I never saw them again," she said suddenly. "The few friends I had went, so I went with them. There were other options but I don't regret it. I'm alive and I'm safe. Not many who aren't with the Inquisition can say that."

"You've made Skyhold a safe place for mages. We're getting reports from all over Thedas and more join our ranks every day. Templars as well."

She pressed her tongue against clenched teeth, wanting to hold back the diatribe that threatened to surge forth. Mages would have her sympathy, templars less so. "I trust both groups are being looked after."

"Yes," he promised. "There is a steady supply of lyrium for both, however, I… have not been taking it."

While Eve had studied the effects of lyrium on mages and knew distantly that templars needed to take it, she had only ever seen one templar in the throes of lyrium withdrawal. He'd gotten very angry, then very sad, then ended up curling in the fetal position in the cafeteria sobbing about chickens. She was twelve and it had been the single most confusing thing she'd seen in her life until that point. "That's dangerous," however, was all she could say. "Does it hurt?"

"I can endure it," he assured her. "I thought you should know. As leader of the Inquisition. I've asked Cassandra to watch me. As a Seeker, she's qualified to make sure my decisions are sound and should I slip…"

"I trust Cassandra," Eve said at once, glad it wasn't her responsibility. Guilt accompanied this thought, though. "You seem all right. How long-"

"After Kirkwall."

"That long?" Surprise caused her to trip a little and Cullen increased his hold momentarily on her. The hand that was on his arm quickly pushed at his chest out of instinct, an irrational panic filling her.

"Apologies," he said, immediately letting her go and taking a step back.

With the space between them now she felt the apprehension fade, and crossed her arms. The marble beneath her feet was slightly cracked and she toed it with her boot before forcing herself to look up at him. "If it's been this long and you're doing as well as you have been…"

"The hope is that I will continue to improve."

"Thank you for telling me," she said, and returned the smile he gave her. "Sorry for trodding on your toes."

"I'm resilient," he assured her with a chuckle.

There was still a slight uneasiness, but it was a step forward. "Not many would take the path you have. Corypheus's general."

"Samson," Cullen confirmed.

"Take care of the templars we have under our command," Eve said. Her voice was authoritative and she watched Cullen straighten just a little. "Any of those wishing to stop their lyrium intake should be allowed to do so. I'll see what I can do about lessening Cassandra's other duties so she can have them checked on weekly."

He nodded. "Understood."

She paused, considering something. "You've shown a lot of trust in me so I'd like to return the favor."

"That's not necessary, Inquisitor. Ah, Eve," he corrected, looking a bit uncomfortable as he said it.

"I was never Harrowed," she said, figuring the bluntness was needed. Otherwise she might have waffled on telling him. She watched him process the information, frowning before it faded.

"I don't think that's strictly necessary anymore," he said finally. "Especially in your case. You've faced worse than demons and come out in one piece, time and time again."

"I suppose," she agreed, and did not mention her nightmares. It was one thing to acknowledge that she'd been tested in other ways, more challenging ways than the Harrowing, but it was something else entirely to admit to the demons and spirits that whispered to her in her sleep. While Dorian and the others were there to help, it might be only a matter of time before her nightmares became too difficult to handle. Seeing the servants' quarters, the slaughtered bodies of elves who never had a chance to escape their murderers, she knew the visions would haunt her. Time and time again it was just more bloodshed. Fighting demons or undead or even dragons was fine. People… that was something else.

"Are you all right? You're shivering." Before she could stop him, Cullen had taken her loosely by the arms.

"Too much Orlesian culture for me," she whispered. "Excuse me, please."

"Of course." He let her go, frowning concernedly.

She turned on her heel and strode back into the ballroom, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Thankfully the eyes of the court were no longer on her and didn't see it happen. They couldn't take it as a weakness, a sign that she was coming undone. Of course the notion was pretty stupid, symbolic overall, but Josephine had advised her to be careful of even the smallest nuances of her hands, face, and hair. Everything had to be exactly perfect for the night, but the night was over, the ballroom emptying out, and she no longer had to wear any kind of mask, real or metaphorical. 

Orlais, she decided, was a fun idea in theory. Fancy parties and delicious food were all well and good, but these people would never see a day of suffering in their lives. Well, she thought, unless they were suffering from a crisis of fashion. She resented them, resented the life she could have had if it had not been for her magic. It made her want to hate herself for being a mage, but she just couldn't. The things she could do were things people would only dream about. If she hadn't been a mage, she would just be another one of these stupid, simpering nobles worrying about the latest gossip and congratulating one another on an exciting party where murder happened in front of their very eyes. It was seriously just a game to them.

She found Dorian first, taking him by the hand and dragged him off to collect the others. He started to protest but quieted upon seeing her face. Cassandra appeared to be relieved when Eve declared the night over, and only Josephine seemed to seem a bit put out at having to say their goodbyes. The carriage ride home was quiet. Neither Cassandra nor Dorian, with whom she shared a cab, seemed inclined to speak to her with the foul mood hanging over her head. Though she'd reconciled somewhat with Cullen and prevented a nation from falling to Corypheus, it felt a very hollow victory. Once they returned to Skyhold, she decided she would ask Alexius for help with her nightmares. Cassandra and Cullen would be too cautious, Solas not cautious enough. Bull and Dorian didn't seem to have enough experience with it. If nothing else, she would learn to shield herself from the things plaguing her while she dreamt. She would need more than a few good nights of sleep before this was over.


	9. Chapter 9

Alexius looked tired when he answered his door late the evening she returned to Skyhold. She smiled easily, her heart fluttering a little when he said her name in greeting. Whatever she felt for him now – a crush? Though it felt like more. Whatever it was had taken up residence in her heart and made her feel a bit light-headed. She held out a small, perfectly wrapped package with a bow on it.

"I bought you something in Orlais."

"I hardly see what I've done to deserve that," he said in his usual soft tone.

She gestured past him. "May I come in?"

It wasn't the enthusiastic invitation she normally received, but he stepped aside all the same and shut the door when she entered.

"Open it now."

He did, carefully removing the wrapping. It was a small golden statue of a dragon that opened in the middle on a hinge. The dragon's eyes were sapphires which the shop clerk told her matched her eyes perfectly. It was likely a marketing ploy but it worked, even if she wasn't sure what its intended purpose was. She thought it was a jewelry box of some kind, but it seemed to fit Alexius, and he could put any type of odds and ends inside.

"Do you like it?" she asked, taking a seat on his bed.

"It's lovely. Thank you." He cleared a spot for it on his desk.

Amidst the clutter Eve saw a silver letter opener, a flash of memory coming forward. Cole telling her about the silver knife, how Alexius would think about it. "The Winter Palace was awful," she said quickly, trying to put the memory from her mind. Her earlier joy was gone now and before she could stop herself, the story spilled forward. She told him about the ball, the deaths of the servants, the fight with Florianne, how everyone looked at her, the whispers behind gloved hands about her and the Inquisition. She was proud of herself for not crying, though she easily could have, taking deep breaths to steady herself. "I'm sorry," she said finally once the entire tale was told.

His mouth was a thin-set line, eyes full of sympathy. When she first met him, she wouldn't have been able to read that from his expression, but she saw it now. It was there, just well-guarded. He seemed to consider something, then sat on the bed next to her. Eve leaned against him automatically, feeling that same fluttering, the nervous yet pleasant twisting in her stomach. His shirt was a simple silken tunic and smelled freshly laundered. The scent of elfroot lingered as well and she became slightly dizzy with the warm weight of his arm around her shoulders. He felt safe to her.

"I've been having horrible nightmares."

"Dorian's mentioned," he said softly.

"He can't help. Neither can Solas. I don't want to tell Cassandra or anyone else. What if…" _What if they make me Tranquil?_ was the terrifying thought. She knew there was no way that would happen, not unless they could prove the Anchor would still work somehow. _Could_ she even be made Tranquil with it? It was a connection to the Fade after all.

"I think they would be concerned," he said quietly. He gave her a small one-armed hug, then retreated once more to his desk.

She missed the warmth and comfort at once. "I wanted to ask if you would help. Not a potion for sleep, but maybe a spell or something I could learn to better block them out."

Alexius nodded slowly. "It's something I'm able to look into."

Perhaps it was just her own emotional state or the lateness of the hour, but something felt off to her. His movements, his mannerisms, where she thought they'd worked up to a comfortable friendship, something seemed wrong. "Are you feeling all right?" She guessed that maybe he was ill and hiding it, or something happened while she was away.

His eyes flicked to the desk, then back to her, and the smile wasn't as genuine. "Yes, thank you."

She looked. On his desk amongst the clutter of collected books and papers and other things was their journal. A runner must've taken care of her correspondence while she was in Halamshiral. But tucked in the folds was a piece of paper sticking out. A sudden sinking feeling washed over her when she recognized the ink stain on the back of it. The letter she wrote him. The letter she intended to burn. The letter that was never supposed to see the bloody light of day, let alone be here in his possession. 'Blushing' didn't even begin to describe the heat rising in her face and neck. No wonder things seemed awkward between them. She'd outright propositioned him. Even if she'd been planning on telling him how she felt, she wouldn't have done it in that way. He was nobleman and while she hadn't had the etiquette training, she knew this was definitely not how you were supposed to handle things.

"That wasn't… I wasn't going to give that to you. That was a mistake. It…"

"That explains quite a good deal of things," he said quietly. Then he sighed. "Evelyn, I'm not going to insult you by telling you why this cannot happen."

The rejection was expected but it still hurt, like a hot knife twisting in her gut. She didn't look at him, her eyes downcast. There was a list a mile long as to why it was a bad idea, but the thing was that she didn't care. "I should go." She would deal with her feelings on her own, maybe stop in at the tavern and get drunk – not something she indulged in usually, but if there was ever a night for it, tonight was it.

"No, I think you ought to hear what I've to say." His tone was gentle.

She still didn't look at him. "I've heard."

"You are a brilliant young woman possessing a curiosity and consideration I've not seen in some time. You've a potential that shouldn't be squandered. If it's become too uncomfortable for you to learn from me, I would encourage you to find someone who can help you with your studies. However, I would be a poor excuse for a teacher and a man if I simply kicked you from my quarters for something like this. There are worse things in life than somehow having earned the attentions of a woman such as yourself."

She wished he kicked her out. Told her never to come back. Called her names. Anything else but this quiet consideration. And in addition to this thoughtful rejection, he was still offering her the help that she needed. It would be a relief to sleep without worry, without nightmares. "I'll think about it. Right now I'd like to be alone."

He picked their journal off his desk, the love letter fluttering from its pages and landing atop a haphazard stack of papers. He contemplated it a moment, then left it there, handing her the journal. She barely noticed when he placed it in her hands, following him to the door. The click of the handle seemed impossibly loud, the cold of the library rushing into his room and washing over her making her feel sick.

"I would understand if you chose to end this," he said by way of parting.

She nodded dumbly but said nothing, giving him one last look. The sad, tight-lipped smile was back and she left, hearing the door shut once she rounded the corner. Feeling numb, she took the stairs into the rotunda one at a time, hand on the stone wall to keep her balance. Solas, still awake, looked up as she floated through in a bit of a daze.

"Inquisitor? Eve?"

"It's fine," she said, proud of how strong her words came out, though she didn't look at him or give validation to his concern. She simply continued to walk. The throne room was thankfully empty, and feeling hollow, she climbed the quiet tower to her quarters to sit and think and hopefully sleep.

-

_Inquisitor,_

_It has come to my attention that certain decisions are being made behind your back. As your spymaster and – I hope – good friend, I thought the matter urgent enough for you to look into. The commander has taken it upon himself to lay down a threat which may or may not be idle concerning Magister Alexius. As he has become a somewhat valuable part of the Inquisition with his research in potions, healing draughts, rune work, and other such things, I believe his contributions more than pay for the price of his life._

_Not that I believe the commander is threatening his life._

_Since this also concerns you not only in a professional matter but personal as well, you should know that the commander has taken it upon himself (possibly with the permission of Seeker Pentaghast) to inform Magister Alexius that he is to no longer allow you into his private quarters and to indeed cease all communications with you outside of official reports, to be passed through myself first. I no doubt do not have to explain why this decree is absurd not only in the fact that I believe in the magister's sincerity in trying to help the Inquisition, but in that at least one of your advisors believes you to be incapable of making your own decisions regarding the friendships you keep._

_While maintaining the face of the Inquisition is important, the sound health of its leader through strong bonds of friendship, and the continuing education of said leader, is much more important. Nothing matters except the ability to stop Corypheus, though I doubt I need to tell you of all people this. Perhaps it is our commander instead who should be reminded? I leave this information in your capable hands, Inquisitor. As always, you know where to find me should have need of me._

_Yours in confidence,_

_Leliana_

Eve read the letter several times, letting the information settle. It had been barely a few days since her last talk with Alexius. She had decided that for now communicating with him via the journal was safest. She apologized and assured him she would return, that she just needed some time. He'd written back with his usual graceful understanding and they'd talked instead about what steps might be necessary in helping her sleep without nightmares. The concern was confusing. Not the fact that he would extend it, but that she still felt so strongly for him and hadn't yet forgotten what it felt like to be in his arms. Juxtaposed with the nightmares were dreams of him holding her, kissing her, teaching her what it meant to have a lover. They were bittersweet and the joy she found in them was short lived either when the dream faded into something ominous and terrifying, or when she woke up and found it wasn't real.

She was being punished, it seemed, for her earnest want to learn. Whether or not Leliana knew the fullest extent of her feelings for Alexius – and knowing Leliana, she likely did – she supported her fully. After all it was Leliana who suggested the journal and the late night visits to avoid prying eyes. But even those changes hadn't been enough and Cullen had somehow found out. Or Cassandra had and ordered Cullen to take care of it. However that didn't seem right to her. If Cassandra knew anything beyond what she'd already believed, she would handle it herself. There would be another awkward sit down. Cassandra would not treat her like a child, threatening Alexius in hopes that he told her to stop coming to see him. 

Anger overtook her at once and she sprang to her feet, grabbing her coat before tearing down the tower steps. She knew she must've looked a sight to those in the throne room but found herself hard pressed to care. Solas thankfully was not present as she left the rotunda to the battlements, jogging up the stone steps to Cullen's office. Where normally she would knock and wait to be invited in, still a little wary around him, she simply walked inside. Two soldiers were there already, receiving orders or dropping off reports. It took everything she had not to start yelling immediately. This was not for their ears, however, and she still had peace of mind not to undermine him in front of them.

_I fucking should anyway,_ was the vicious thought.

"I need a moment of the commander's time," she said crisply.

She wasn't normally so direct, or perhaps it was the glare, but the soldiers didn't argue. Technically she outranked Cullen after all, and no one really wanted to be on her bad side, all things considered. They saluted and left quickly.

Cullen straightened, looking confused. "Eve-"

"No," she said flatly. "No, this is not a social call, Commander. I'm here regarding a letter I received about you."

He frowned, brow furrowed as the confusion deepened. "Yes, Inquisitor?"

It was almost worse than being called by her name, the title seeming flat and hollow and patronizing. Whether it was intentional or not, it fueled her anger. "Do you think me a child, Commander?"

"I… I'm not sure-"

"Yes or no."

"No, of course not," he said quickly. "What is-"

"Then why am I being treated as such?"

"Perhaps you could explain-"

"Magister Alexius." She watched the confusion change to realization, his mouth pursed at once, hands furling into fists. "So it's true. You did tell him that he was to no longer allow me near himself?"

"I'm not sure I put it that way exactly," Cullen said carefully.

The anger turned into an almost impotent rage. Not only that Cullen would be so presumptuous as to control who she was friends with, but to go behind her back to issue an order. At least Cassandra and Josephine had the grace to talk to her directly about it. "Why." The word was bereft of any curiosity, all that remained was fury.

"My office overlooks the courtyard. I happened to observe the other night through his window-"

She swore in Tevene, a particularly vicious curse that Dorian had hesitated in teaching her the meaning. All things considered it was mild in comparison to what she wanted to do, which was to set Cullen on fire. "You were spying on him."

Cullen flustered a moment then collected himself. "There have been whispers about your relationship with him, the inappropriateness, and with his arm around you, I thought-"

"I was talking to him about the blighted Winter Palace!" she shouted.

Cullen glanced to the doors, perhaps worried as to what prying ears would hear. "It is not-"

"If you tell me one more Maker damned time that it's inappropriate, I will set your office on fire," she ground out. "You acknowledge I'm not a child and continue to treat me like one. My affairs, appropriate or otherwise are none of your business, Commander. You have no right to speak to Magister Alexius regarding anything save what your soldiers might need for battle. Do I make myself clear?"

His eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch and he straightened, hands folded on the pommel of his sword. "Yes, Inquisitor."

"Did you threaten him if he failed to adhere to your absurd demands?"

"I informed him that we might need to seek other accommodations for him," Cullen answered stiffly.

"You will pen an apology and deliver it no later than tomorrow evening. Understand?" She felt the heat in her palms, the flames that wanted to escape her fingers, and restrained herself. This entire situation was utterly ridiculous. Even if she hadn't been harboring a crush on Alexius, even if it was purely a relationship between a mentor and student, there was nothing wrong with it. Leliana saw that. They trusted Dorian not to _corrupt_ her. What was it then? His age? _The fact that he tried to kill you,_ was the rational thought that surfaced, but she shoved it away, wanting to cling to her righteous anger in this situation.

"Yes, Inquisitor," he repeated.

She stared at him a moment longer as if daring him to question her. He didn't. A part of her wanted to say more, to demand more of an explanation than was given, but she didn't. Instead, she turned on her heel and walked out of his office, back across the battlements and up the stairs. Dorian glanced up at her from his alcove and called out her name but she ignored him. Not caring who saw her now, she went straight to Alexius's door and knocked.

No answer.

She tried the handle which turned easily, and opened the door. The room was empty but the scent of potions brewing wafted upstairs. She heard movement and shut the door, then locked it. Still angry from her outrage at Cullen's behavior, she felt much more confident than she would have and strode downstairs. Alexius had his back to her, bent over papers, quill in hand. He hummed idly as he scratched down notes or results and didn't seem to hear her approach. She crossed the room, put a hand on his back and felt only slightly guilty when he jumped and turned.

"Evelyn?"

Clearly he wasn't expecting her, considering the hour was still early. Perhaps Cullen's threat was fresh in his mind because he frowned. Sheer impulse, coupled with her emotions still running high made the reckless decision for her. She grabbed his wrist, leaned up, and kissed him soundly. For a few brief seconds she forgot everything except for the feeling of his lips against hers. None of the kisses she had in the Circle or her mother's trite romance novels could have prepared her for the tingling warmth she felt from head to toe, or the overwhelming desire to do more. She reached up, palm against his chest and suddenly he took her hand, pushing her back gently but firmly.

They stood that way for a moment, Alexius looking at her, a mix of emotion in his expression, their hands clutching one another's. She licked her lips, immediately aware of what she'd just done and hoped that she hadn't ruined even the possibility of friendship between them. But after that, how could she settle? She wanted more. She wanted him to want more. Anger faded into embarrassment and uncertainty as the silence stretched.

"Commander Cullen won't bother you anymore," she said finally. "He overstepped his bounds and has been reprimanded."

"While that's appreciated, I think-"

"Don't," she said, cutting him off, not wanting to hear another rejection. She drew her thumb over his wrist, looking up at him earnestly. "Don't tell me to leave. Don't say this isn't appropriate. Don't end this for my sake, Gereon."

There was pain in his softened expression. Not anger, not annoyance. "Very well."

"I know my own shortcomings. My inexperience," she corrected quickly before he could say anything. "But at the very least, I do know what I want. There are a thousand reasons why I shouldn't. Why we shouldn't. But the only one I'll hear is that you don't want this. That you don't feel similarly for me. I'll accept that and that'll be the end of it. I won't like it, but at least I'll know you did it for yourself and not to protect me or the Inquisition." She took a breath. "And if that's the case I'll tuck my feelings away and focus on being a model student. Regardless, I need your help. So… tell me."

He released her hand and she let him pull away from her. With a sigh, he dropped his quill on the table and ran a hand over his hair. Nearly shaved when he joined the Inquisition, it had grown out some, the silver strands close-cropped. "There are indeed many reasons as to why you shouldn't feel this way. If there's one thing I learned in my experience, however, emotion is rarely based on logic and difficult to contain. In some cases, shouldn't be contained." He paused, reaching out, and crooked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up. "You would leave if I told you I don't feel anything for you beyond that of a mentor for his apprentice, or one friend to another?"

"Yes," she said, holding his gaze, though she was waiting for him to say it. It would hurt but she would accept it. But she would kick herself forever if she let Cullen or Cassandra or any of them dictate her love life.

"It would be a lie if I said that."

Hope and relief jockeyed for the predominant emotion within her. She smiled, leaning into his touch as the hand under her chin cupped her cheek, thumb brushing along the skin. "Then?"

Alexius exhaled, letting his hand drop. "Maker's breath," he whispered, laughing lightly. "Evelyn, what are you hoping for?" But he didn't sound angry. His tone was closer to amusement.

She frowned a little. "I don't know. I like you. Being with you. I liked… kissing you," she said carefully.

"Oh?"

She'd faced demons, templars, abominations, rogue mages and worse. She could be brave in love. With that in mind, she rested her hands against his chest, smiling when he gently grasped her wrists. "Yes." Leaning up, she kissed him again.

This time he returned it, guiding her carefully, teaching her what she'd forgotten and expanding her knowledge. He cupped her face, thumbs stroking softly against her skin, encouraging her to part her lips, which she did. She heard the quiet noise of longing in the back of her throat, fingers curling to grip his shirt as he pressed forward, his tongue meeting hers tentatively at first then with renewed confidence. Her feet returned to the floor when he leaned down, one hand moving to the small of her back to keep her steady. She felt the heat of his body against hers, desire curling in her belly, the familiar ache that her dreams brought her starting to grow. Her hands slid up his chest, over his shoulders and one cupped the back of his head, fingers brushing against the short bristles of his hair. Slowly the kiss ended, leaving her breathless and dizzy and she was grateful for his arms around her, holding her up.

"That's…wow," she managed to whisper.

He smiled. "Reassuring."

"Hm?"

"That I'm still able to reduce a woman to monosyllabic statements with my kisses."

She laughed, pleased with the declaration. Alexius was confident, but rarely arrogant. It was a nice change to see this spark inside him. "I want more."

"There will be more in the way of that," he promised, taking a lock of her hair between his fingers. He tucked it carefully behind her ear, then traced the shell of it with the lightest touch. His fingertips ghosted down her neck. "You're beautiful."

Eve blushed. She'd been complimented before, even recently at the Winter Palace. But none of them compared to those two words from him. "I guess."

"The modesty does not suit you." His lips brushed hers, too briefly. "Though I am prepared to sing your praises both to your beauty and intelligence, I've a potion boiling over."

"Oh!" She pulled back quickly, not wanting to be the reason one of his projects was ruined.

Alexius laughed though and crossed to the cauldron to take care of it. She moved to the stairs, leaning against the railing and watched him work. Unconsciously she reached up and touched her lips, wondering if she was imagining the tingling she felt. There was a lot she wanted to ask him, both about the potion he was working on and about their future together.

"I'm going to get you curtains for your window upstairs."

"Part of the Free Marches courting process?" he joked, looking over his shoulder at her.

Eve grinned. "Sheaves of wheat and farm animals. But even that's old fashioned. No, it's for privacy." She paused thoughtfully. "Besides, doesn't the man court the woman in Tevinter?"

"I'm not sure how well I can manage that in my current state of affairs, but I've never backed away from a challenge." He ladled the mixture from the cauldron into several dozen vials.

"I don't… that is, ah. It was a joke," she tried, though the idea of being courted by Alexius wasn't unwelcome.

"I'm not sure I want to rush into this, Evelyn." He turned, wiping his hands on a cloth. "Not only has it been a very long time since I've had the attentions of a gorgeous young lady, there are…" He considered his words a moment. "Many obstacles to overcome."

"Like what? Oh, do you mean Cullen and the others?" She waved a hand. "Leliana knows. I'm fairly sure anyway." Her anger seemed very distant now, the idea that she could kiss Alexius whenever she wished easing the blow of her previous indignation.

He raised an eyebrow. "That as well. I was referring to the difference in our ages."

"Honestly the difference in our heights is more of a problem. You're so tall I might end up getting a crick in my neck whenever I try to kiss you." She grinned at his incredulous look. "Yes, so, I get it. And I know it'll be a big problem for everyone else but I don't care a Maker damned bit about it or them."

He was quiet again, contemplating, then nodded. "Very well. That will be the last I bring it up, but you'll likely hear it from others should they find out."

"I don't care," she said again. "If they say something against you I'll defend you. You know I will."

He shook his head. "Dear sweet Evelyn, I was not worried about myself but about you."

"Me?" She shrugged. "I'm used to it. There are still rumors that Dorian and I are lovers, despite the fact that he isn't-" She stopped short, wondering if Alexius knew.

"Quite," he said, answering that question. "Regardless, I'd rather not see you slandered on my account."

"Hence the curtains. Commander Cullen apparently saw us the night I returned from Halamshiral." She looked up the stairs, frowning a little. "He probably saw me come in, too. Nosy." _I'll need to talk to Cassandra before he does._

"That is… yes, curtains would be appreciated. However that is the last gift I'll accept from you."

She laughed. "Sorry, no. I like giving gifts so you'll need to get used to it more often now that I'm courting you. Or you're courting me. Either way. Nothing about this is traditional, after all."

"You mean there's no precedent set for a jailor taking advantage of her prisoner?" His tone was light and joking, but it gave her pause. "Made in bad taste, I apologize," he said at once and crossed the room to take her hand. "Once I would have considered a headsman to be a mercy."

"And now?" She felt her heart race as he stepped into her personal space, the heat from his body making it hard to think.

"I am grateful for another chance."

He leaned down to kiss her and Eve decided that she was grateful as well.


	10. Chapter 10

_Cara mia,_

_You've been gone from Skyhold for nearly a fortnight now. While the curtains are a nice reminder of you, and your latest gift of Tevinter brandy extremely thoughtful (it's a very good year, by the way and I would like to introduce you to the nuances of the flavor), they're both poor substitutes for having you in my arms. Forgive me if you find it overwhelmingly saccharine of me to lament upon how I miss you when you're away. Your duties, as do mine, come first._

_Expect more entries like this one tucked between the more useful, practical notations of my alchemical research and theories of how to ease your nightmares._

_Affectionately yours,_

_Gereon_

This and other notes like it were interspersed with bits of gossip and suggestions for spells or potions to help her sleep better. Along with his thoughtfulness in the journal, he'd given her two gifts – a ring made of onyx and serpentstone that would protect her from attackers should anyone get close enough to hit her, and a rose made of sparkling crystal with a note admitting there was no practical application for it. He simply wanted to give her something pretty. She slid the ring on her finger and placed the rose on her desk, unable to keep from grinning stupidly at both. _Courting, indeed._

They'd only just gotten back once again from Orlais, and while she longed to go see him, a mountain of paperwork awaited her return, not to mention her beloved marble tub. The Dales were particularly harsh and impossibly rocky. They'd all done their fair share of complaining, too. It was too cold, too wet, and there were far too many giants in the Emerald Graves. Bull seemed happy when they pulled down yet another dragon and Eve was able to salvage quite a bit of material from it, including a large squishy heart that she preserved and sent on ahead to Alexius to use in whatever way he found fitting. In retrospect it was a bit of a macabre gift, but there was a note of thanks for it in the journal that she read now while she soaked in the bath.

There were no further incidents with Cullen, and their exchanges when they had them were brief and cordial. Neither Cassandra nor Josephine seemed to be the wiser, but Leliana would smile knowingly at her when they passed in the halls. She thought that Solas might have guessed as well as he kept rather late hours (again she wondered as to when he actually did do his Fade dreaming) and saw her come and go from the library. Otherwise she thought she was rather discreet, but a part of her wanted to spend the night with Alexius. A warm body next to hers, his arms around her while she slept, she was certain that it would drive the nightmares away better than any spell or potion.

Cassandra noticed her fatigue but put it down to how hard she'd been working in Orlais, the country still a mess in the aftermath of the Winter Palace dealings. An ally now of Empress Celene, they were obligated to help where they could. It was a good thing, Cassandra told her, that she was still so deeply affected by the injustices of the world. Bull agreed, telling her the story about how he'd burnt out fighting in Seheron, that anyone could break under the weight she was carrying. They were both proud of her for neither snapping nor becoming numb to it all. Still, there were some days where she wished for peace.

After drying off she brushed out her hair, leaving it loose around her shoulders and dressed in a new outfit. The stretchy Orlesian chemise was made from soft silk, dyed black, and she purchased matching smallclothes to go with it. Dorian complimented her on her tastes, but thankfully did not tease her further. She would hate to think of him finding out and hating her, even if she couldn't imagine him doing so. But Alexius was like a surrogate father to him, so what if this was his one breaking point? Something she would have to consider and maybe talk to Alexius about. She finished dressing and fairly skipped down the stairs, glad of the lateness of the hour and emptiness of the castle.

She knocked on his door and wondered if he was waiting for her with how swiftly he answered. The door shut and she was sandwiched firmly between it and Alexius at once, his lips eagerly upon hers. If there were any doubts about their relationship while she was away from him, they fled instantly with his kiss and his touch. Weathered fingers, tips perpetually stained from the potions he worked with, sank into her hair while his other hand clutched the small of her back. It was a possessive hold, one she loved, one that made her feel like she belonged to him. Impossible, she thought, how he could make her feel safe yet strong in the same moment. The kiss left her breathless, her hands on his shoulders as she remembered how to think.

"I've missed you, too," she said, smiling up at him. She cupped his cheek, leaning up for a chaste kiss which he gave freely, smiling.

"Your spirit friend kept me company," he informed her, arm around still as he guided her to the bed where they sat together to talk.

"Cole? How is he?"

"Extremely inquisitive," he answered, amused.

She settled next to him, her thigh pressed firmly against his. His arm around her felt nice and she held his other hand loosely in both of her own. "I can tell him to stop coming by if you want. He means well but sometimes he shows things he's not supposed to."

"Indeed. He spoke of your brother before I demanded he stop." He looked a little regretful, perhaps feeling guilty for Cole's actions. "I don't believe there was harm meant, but this world is likely very confusing for him. Most spirits don't possess the level of intelligence he's shown, doing either what they want or what they're told. Much like children," he added with an amused quirk of the lips.

Solas had spoken similarly, and Eve tried to have the utmost patience when it came to Cole. It wasn't as if her family was a secret after all, there were reports of Trevelyans trying to gain power using her name. Josephine and Leliana put immediate stops to that when they surfaced. And it was courteous of Alexius not to pry, even though she never thought he would be the type to do so. "He told me some things about your past as well. I told him to stop. I… if you want to tell me anything about it, it's up to you. Dorian told me some, but…" It was a little uncomfortable. They were still testing the waters, their relationship new and somewhat fragile. With so many factors working against them, Eve felt this was almost more difficult than the tasks that took her away from Skyhold. But just as worth it.

"He showed you Livia," Alexius guessed at once.

"How did you know?" She felt slightly guilty, but Alexius's smile was reassuring.

"He's a spirit of compassion. He claims to heal what hurts us. If it wasn't Livia," he added somberly, "then it was Felix."

Eve understood. "He showed me a memory of what she looked like. She was very beautiful." There was a slight twinge of jealousy, but the emotion was impulsive and stupid. She hadn't had a lot of experience with happy marriages. Her mother and father were cordial to one another but far from affectionate, at least in public. Alexius and Livia weren't arranged like Dorian's parents, and what she could tell from what little she knew about their relationship, he had loved her very much. He always would. But instead of letting herself feel jealous, she wanted to help ease the hurt and maybe fill the hole Livia's death left inside him. She wanted to make him happy.

"She was," he said with a wistful smile. "Graceful, possessing intelligence I could never hope to have, even with years of practiced study. And she enjoyed teaching."

"You must've been a pair." She leaned against him, the hand that was on her back moving to her hair. He slowly ran his fingers through it, eliciting a happy sigh from her.

"We were. But I'm sure you don't want to speak about this."

"I would," she said at once. "I don't want you to feel like you can't talk about them. You had a gorgeous family, Gereon. I just… I hope that I…"

He nudged her away but only so that he could kiss her. Her wordless fears died in that kiss, clutching his hand as he held her close. The mattress creaked softly when he pulled her legs up and over his and without breaking the kiss, she found herself in his lap. His held her loosely, one warm hand on her thigh squeezing firmly. She gasped, then groaned as she was pushed away gently.

"Gereon. It's…"

"Yes, cara mia?" He smiled.

"I'm not quite sure what that means," she admitted. His letters to her included that phrase along with several others in Tevene. "I can um. I can swear and say, 'Hello, how are you?'" Dorian had tried to teach her some but she found herself now more than ever wanting to learn the language.

He chuckled. "'My dear'. But it sounds much better in Tevene."

"Say it again," she pleaded.

He did, followed by several more sentences which she couldn't understand but loved to hear all the same. His voice seemed to deepen as he whispered in Tevene, placing kissing on her forehead, her cheek. She tilted her head, inhaling sharply when he nuzzled her neck. His lips were soft and warm against her throat and she covered his hand with hers, encouraging him to squeeze. Her body sang beneath his touches, yearning for more.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered.

"We can do more," she said quietly. 

He said he wanted to go slowly, to savor the relationship, joking lightly about courting her properly. She wasn't sure how much more she could take. Lying in bed at night either in her quarters or alone in her tent as they camped in the Orlesian countryside, she ventured to take her own pleasure, remembering his kisses, the softness of his touch. Outside of a few embarrassing experimental times in the Circle, she'd never really tried to get herself off and even now it was somewhat awkward. She wanted to learn, and she wanted him to teach her. She fingered the buttons to her shirt teasingly.

"Evelyn-"

"It's okay," she assured him. She wrapped her free hand around his shoulders, nails scraping gently against his scalp. She liked the way his hair felt, short and bristly, and his eyes fluttered closed momentarily at her touch. The shirt unbuttoned easily, revealing the lacy silken chemise. "I bought this in Orlais. I wanted to show you."

Alexius smiled as he looked it over, then chuckled, but she noticed it was a bit rougher than his usual light laughter. She wondered if it was because of her, if he was excited as she was at the prospect of taking it off her. It took a slight bit of wriggling but she tugged her shirt off and dropped it to the floor. Despite the fire in the lower room it was a bit cool and goose bumps rose over her bare shoulders. She watched his face, his eyes drinking in every bit of her. Finally he lifted a hand and drew the backs of his fingers along her shoulder, down her arm.

"Oh, I like that," she purred as he continued.

His fingertips warmed, a subtle influx of magic as he drew them over her skin again. She gasped as his nails gently scraped against the inside of her elbow, down to her wrist and over her palm. The heat increased, followed by the barest hint of electric energy, causing the hairs on her arm to stand up. Such a simple touch caused her so much pleasure and her mind filled with ideas of what it would be like to do even more. But he seemed fine with taking his time, exploring the skin that was presently exposed instead of moving on.

"I've heard of spells. Certain ones. For se… for sex," she finished, whispering shyly.

"We'll get to them." His tone ensured the promise. "Perhaps even all of them. Alphabetically. Many times."

"Oh," was all she could manage to say before he was kissing her again. 

Her eyes closed as his lips fell to her neck once more, then her collar bone. His tongue made lazy, slow circles over her skin even as his fingers continued to draw heat and a very pleasant tingling up and down her arm. She desperately wanted to know what that magic would feel like elsewhere on her body. She squeezed her thighs together, unable to stop from fidgeting, and gasped when he nudged the thin strap of her chemise from her shoulder.

"I could tease you all night. The sounds you make."

"It's your fault." She smiled and kissed him, then offered her shoulder. "Do you want me to take it off?"

"Not yet." He ran his index finger along her collar bone, then lower to touch the lacy pattern that lined the top of the chemise. "The imagination is very titillating after all."

She blushed, unable to stop grinning. "I've thought about this. Us together. At night when I'm alone."

"Have you?" he breathed. "Tell me."

His hand was on her arm again brushing lightly, then up over her shoulder and down her back just as slowly.

It felt almost embarrassing to admit it, to talk about it, but Alexius was listening attentively as she spoke. "I start by touching my stomach."

His hand mirrored her words and she twisted a little when he caught a ticklish spot on her side. He laughed and dropped another kiss to her shoulder, then the hollow of her throat.

"I just do that for a bit, thinking it's your hand instead." She lifted her chin, gasping as his lips moved up her neck, then nipped softly.

"And what does my hand do?" he murmured against her skin.

"Slides up slowly. Oh." His hand slipped under the chemise, stroking the sensitive spots below her ribs. "I'll just do that for a while."

"Teasing yourself. Making it last," Alexius said approvingly.

"Maker," she whispered. "More, Gereon, please." She wasn't sure if she wanted his hand to move up or down, but her body was demanding _something_. She wanted to be touched more, hips rocking a bit as she tried to find a release for the building ache inside her. Her smalls, she realized, were just a little wet now from his teasing.

He chuckled against her neck, kissing lower. She arched in anticipation as his hand moved further up and gasped when his fingers brushed against the underside of her breast. It was impossible to concentrate on both his hand and his lips when both were doing equally distracting things. He carefully massaged, avoiding her nipple which was already taut in anticipation.

"Gereon!" she begged, grasping the back of his shirt.

"Yes, my dear," he relented.

With the first pass of his thumb over her nipple her hips jerked involuntarily. He ducked his head and bent his wrist simultaneously, pushing the silk sliding up, exposing her breast which he kissed, causing her to inhale and tense. His tongue flicked against her nipple, teasing. She waited. He laughed softly then without further preamble, drew it between his teeth and sucked, tonguing it firmly. She groaned, gasping again when he nipped, slightly painful but exactly what she needed after all the light touches. The hand not gripping his shirt landed in her lap, and it took all her willpower not to thrust it into her pants and touch herself to find relief. He seemed to sense this and firmly seized her fingers, almost a warning. 

Frustrated, needing _more_ , she whined. "Touch me."

"I am," he pointed out, before bringing her teased nipple back between his lips. Spell renewed and amplified, he ran his fingers over her back and stomach, a combination of heat and vibration reducing her further to _need_ and _want_. "You don't think this is torture for me as well?" he asked.

"You can do something about it," she growled, and spread her legs invitingly. "Touch me."

"Not yet."

"Tonight," she demanded.

"Maybe," he said, a spark of mischief in his eye.

"You are the single most frustrating man I have ever met!" A part of her wanted to beg, to just use the filthy words that were in her vocabulary that only seemed to surface in times of extreme emotion. _Just fuck me already!_ But he wouldn't listen. She knew he wouldn't. He would only laugh infuriatingly and then tease her more.

"Am I now?" he chuckled. "I believe I'm only half-finished. Come, let me get the other."

"It would be easier if I could straddle your waist," she said boldly. "Or you could just take it off."

He tutted. "Impatient apprentice. I'm teaching."

"Maybe I don't like this lesson!" she protested.

"You like it _too_ much, cara mia."

Before she could complain again, he drew her chemise up further to repeat his torturous ministrations to her other breast, teeth tugging the sensitive nipple. She panted quietly, moaning when he pinched the other between his fingers, twisting gently. He seemed to know exactly what felt good, exactly what she would like. Her legs spread wider on his lap, thigh nudging his groin where she felt his cock, and her eyes widened.

"Easy," he whispered against her body. "Are you all right?"

"I've never… ah. Well. I've no experience with it," she said quickly. Despite other mage-apprentices – the boys she kissed in the Circle – wanting her to.

He nudged her thigh away from him, hand resting on her knee. "There will be time. And conversations."

A nervous sort of laughter worked its way past her lips. "Conversations about your-"

"About what you're comfortable with," he said with a wry smile. He squeezed the inside of her thigh. "Where were we? Ah, right." His hand moved back to cup her breast and he lowered his head again.

She cried out in surprise at the swift, pleasurable attack and arched her back, demanding more. His hands slid around her, lifting the chemise. She was about to raise her arms so he could finally remove it when two sharp knocks at the door interrupted them, then to her horror, she heard it open. Alexius quickly pulled the fabric down to cover her up.

"Alexius, I was wondering if you had – Ah." Dorian stopped, quickly averting his eyes. "You're busy. I'll come back. Sorry." He turned and left as quickly as he'd come, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Eve quickly covered her burning face, embarrassment driving away her arousal. "Andraste's flaming pyre," she hissed, the words muffled.

Alexius eased her hands away from her face. "It's all right," he soothed.

She groaned and leaned against him, burying her face instead in his shoulder. "I didn't lock the damn door."

"The fault is mine. I neglected it in my haste to greet you."

She looked at him, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "All right. I'll let you take the blame for this one," she teased, though it felt at least half her fault. Without the heat of his hands, the excitement and anticipation, the room was somewhat cold and she wrapped her arms around herself.

Alexius leaned over, careful not to drop her, and plucked her shirt from the floor. Sighing, she pulled it on and buttoned it up. He touched her hand and then kissed her softly when she looked at him.

"I'll talk to him," she offered, easing off his lap, knowing the night was over now. While she didn't care much what anyone thought of her seeing Alexius, she understood the need for discretion if only to protect _him_. Dorian wouldn't tell anyone, but it seemed their affair was slowly becoming the worst kept secret in Thedas.

"I'll send for him tomorrow," Alexius countered.

"No." She leaned up to kiss him, hand on the door. "Well, I expect we'll both talk to him, but I'll find him now." _Probably went straight for the tavern._

Alexius frowned but nodded at her obstinate look. "You can be quite stubborn once you decide something."

She grinned. "What a lovely compliment." It was teasing, but sincere.

They shared one last kiss and said goodnight, and she reluctantly left him to seek out Dorian and try to explain.

-

"Are you angry?" she asked him when she found him, as she thought she would, in the tavern. 

He was upstairs, mug of Fereldan ale cupped between his hands, but at least he looked up at her when she approached. At her tentative words, he managed a smile. "No. Anger is not quite the emotion."

"May I sit? I owe you an apology. Or at least an explanation." She laid a tentative hand on the back of the chair across from him, and breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded. Dropping into it, she covered her face with her hands, thinking, embarrassed that he'd seen her in such a position. Though she knew that if anyone was going to be gracious about this situation it would be Dorian. "I suppose telling you that I enjoy his company is a bit redundant."

Dorian snorted. "Quite." He sipped his ale before sighing, looking up at her. "There are worse people to fall in love with. In fact, I would say that you've chosen quite well, considering the options." He glanced out over the tavern, a myriad of soldiers and scouts playing cards and laughing. "At least Alexius bathes." He wrinkled his nose.

Eve considered his words. She'd never been in love before. Deciding it was too early to make that determination, she shrugged a bit. Almost unconsciously she twisted her fingers atop the table until Dorian reached over and squeezed. "I don't want to get him hurt."

"I expect he feels much the same about you," Dorian agreed. "I wasn't planning on telling anyone."

"I wasn't worried about that." She took the mug from him and sipped, wincing at the flavor that burned as it went down. "You don't mind?"

"The flavor is disgusting anyway," he said, purposefully misinterpreting her question. He sighed. "I just need time to process it. If you'd told me instead of leaving me to find out…"

Guilt twisted her insides. "I'm sorry. I had thought about it, though I guess that means little or nothing, especially now. He wants to talk to you about it as well."

Dorian shook his head. "I'll speak with him of course but neither of you has to answer to me. I understand the appeal, I suppose. He's rather distinguished, capable, intelligent. He's a bit, ah. Hm. Older."

_There it is,_ she thought. It was the first of likely many dissenting opinions. Though she supposed Alexius himself was the first. Once they'd gotten past that, however, it truly didn't matter. Their conversations centered on magical theory, defeating Corypheus, and what she'd been doing while she was away. He seemed happy to keep the discussion on her, and she wondered idly if she perhaps monopolized too much of their conversations.

Eve made a face. "Oh? I hadn't noticed."

"All right. Smart ass." He smiled. "Truly though, are you happy? Is he happy?"

"We are, I think," she said eagerly, now that Dorian seemed more receptive to it. "I just don't want him to get hurt," she repeated. "If someone else finds out or…"

"Then you and I have the same idea. However, I don't want _you_ hurt either. To have something happen to my very best friend?"

She smiled. His concern was touching and not without merit. Convincing Alexius she wanted to be with him was rather easy. Navigating the rest of it would be a bit trickier. "Well if you want to help me…"

"Name it."

"You could be there when I tell Cassandra."

"Name something else," Dorian said. Though his tone was teasing, there was some seriousness to it.

"You coward."

"It's called self-preservation!" he insisted. "Ah, very well. When do we face the Seeker?"

Eve thought a moment, deciding. "Tomorrow. Which will give you time to talk to Alexius first. And I'll make sure Leliana is there."

"You want Leliana to know as well?"

She winced. "I'm fairly sure she already does."

"That's no surprise, actually," Dorian scoffed. He finished what was left of his ale and stood. "I'll speak with Alexius now then. Unless you were…" He wave a hand, trying to find the words. "Going to finish what you were in the middle of."

"That you interrupted!"

"Maybe I wouldn't have if the door had been locked." But he smiled. "Find me tomorrow and we'll… talk to Cassandra." His tone was defeated, but he leaned down to kiss the top of her head before heading downstairs.

Eve contemplated getting a drink as well, but instead took herself to bed, knowing that she would need her rest to deal with the inevitable fallout when they told Cassandra what was going on.


	11. Chapter 11

To call the silence uncomfortable would be like saying that the Frostbacks were a bit chilly. Eve kept her head up, sitting at her desk, Dorian standing just a little behind her. She decided to have the conversation in her quarters instead of the war room or the tavern. Somewhere completely private and far enough away from Alexius's room should Cassandra decide that he was a problem and rush off to take care of it. For this reason, Leliana stood between her and stairway leading to the rest of the tower. When Eve asked for a private word with her and Cassandra, she'd given a knowing look, but said nothing.

"You cannot be serious," Cassandra finally said. She looked angry but also concerned.

"I am," Eve replied, keeping her tone firm. She knew that she needed to maintain a calm demeanor and not back down. She had been angry when she spoke to Cullen and in retrospect knew she needed to acknowledge his concerns and assuage them. However, Cassandra came first. If Eve could convince her that this had been her decision, that Alexius wasn't using her and wasn't a danger to her, then it would be much, much easier for everyone else to accept. After all, Cassandra was billed as the authority of the Inquisition, and was highly respected.

"Perhaps you can explain it. Because I do not understand." She looked at Dorian. "I expect this is all very amusing to you."

"Not at all," Dorian said, arms crossed. "But as I have been asked here by the Inquisitor for moral support, and I count Alexius as a good friend of mine, I am here."

"He tried to kill you," Cassandra said flatly, speaking to them both.

"A man grieving for his son," Eve said. "You know what it's like to lose family. He would've done anything to save Felix. Wouldn't you have done the same for Anthony?"

Cassandra paused, pursing her lips. She then turned to look at Leliana. "I expect you already knew about this."

"I did," Leliana said, confirming Eve's suspicions. "I did not see an issue with it. The Inquisitor, while young, is a consenting adult and the magister has proven himself to be valuable and more importantly on our side."

Cassandra looked at her a moment longer, then nodded before looking back to Eve. "Putting aside, for now, the fact that he tried to kill you, you still have yet to explain."

"Maybe it sounds like a bad romance novel," Eve conceded.

"She likes those," Dorian muttered, grinning when Cassandra glared.

"He's sweet. He understands… he understands what it's like to be a mage and I can talk to him about the things that bother me."

"Could you not also do that with us?" Cassandra's tone almost held a note of hurt to it.

"Well yes, but no offense, you're not really my type," Eve joked. "And Dorian's-"

"Not going to be included in this particular part of the conversation, thank you. Moving on," Dorian said swiftly.

"Your attentions could have been given to someone more appropriate than a Tevinter magister who is-"

"Older," Eve finished for her. She sighed. "As if I could just wish my feelings away. All right, I'll bite. Who?"

Cassandra frowned. "I cannot presume to give you romantic advice, Inquisitor."

"Really?" Eve raised an eyebrow. "Because it sounds like that's what you're doing by telling me who I _shouldn't_ have feelings for, so if you could maybe tell me who I _should_ , I'd appreciate it."

"I… see your point," Cassandra said finally. She turned once more to Leliana. "Do you have anything to add?"

Leliana strode forward. "The Inquisitor is firm in her decision and I think we should support her, both as her friends and her advisors. After all, the main issue here is that he is from Tevinter and a former member of the Venatori. His information, what he was able to give, helped us remove several of Corypheus's soldiers from the field. As well as a lead that I have personally confirmed regarding a Venatori excavation in western Orlais. Not to mention the helpful tonics and magical artifacts he has made that Dagna has been able to reproduce en masse for our soldiers and scouts."

Cassandra grunted, a reluctant sort of acknowledgement and acceptance. "I will not pretend I do not find this unusual. However, stranger things have occurred and he does seem genuine in his willingness to help us, even under duress." She fixed Eve with a concerned look. "Is this truly what you want? What will make you happy?"

"Yes," Eve said at once, hopeful. "Does that mean-"

"It means I am going to talk to the magister to obtain his intentions for myself, while keeping firm the understanding that he appears to have no ulterior motive beyond…" She waved a hand.

"Romance," Leliana supplied.

Dorian made an uncomfortable sort of groan behind Eve, and Eve tried not to laugh at his discomfort. Considering both her role and Alexius's in his life, it was understandable that he wouldn't want to think about what went on between them.

"Quite," Cassandra said. "I trust that will be acceptable to you."

"Of course." Eve didn't think that Alexius would mind, and wondered as to what he would say to Cassandra to convince her. What she wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. "He mentioned courting anyway. Maybe this is how he'll ask permission!"

"Are we finished?" Dorian asked quickly, and this time Eve did laugh. "Yes, yes, quite amusing. Let's all laugh at Dorian who had to find out first-hand about this."

Leliana covered her mouth to hide a grin and Cassandra shook her head before leaving quickly. Eve caught the wink from Leliana as she followed Cassandra out, then looked up at Dorian.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm going to get drunk now if there are no more pressing issues."

"I'm not that repulsive," she said in mock defense.

"My dear, you are a beautiful woman. However, I cannot begin to express why I would never again like to see you and my former patron in that position. Remind me later after I've sobered up to teach you a proper warding spell in addition to the finer points of locking a door."

"Goodbye, Dorian," she said, still laughing as he followed the others out.

Relieved now, and hoping the talk between Cassandra and Alexius would go well, Eve turned to her piles of letters and reports to look over.

-

"The Inquisitor told me of your relationship with her. What are your intentions?"

That was, of course, not exactly the way Cassandra wanted to phrase the question. She left the tower, not expecting to have the conversation she had. But Eve was genuine in her admittance, and it spoke a lot about her growing maturity that she brought the issue up before Cassandra had to find out about it secondhand. Not to mention the trust Eve had in her. She was slightly put out that Leliana and Dorian knew before she did, but she was fairly sure no one else had been told. Josephine, she knew, would have a field day with it. But Cassandra had no time for the fussy nobles who would clutch their pearls at the idea of the Inquisitor finding a lover. And why shouldn't she? She was young and brave and sympathetic to the problems of the world. Being a little selfish amidst all that wasn't such a bad thing. It would be good for her to have a partner for the dark times still yet ahead. But as her friend and protector, it was Cassandra's job to make sure the man she chose to lavish her attentions upon was worthy of her.

Alexius answered graciously. "Presently I intend only to make her happy and keep her as safe as possible."

"Am I to believe this arrangement is entirely altruistic of you?"

"Forgive me if I speak plainly."

"I would prefer it," Cassandra agreed.

Alexius gestured to his desk chair while crossing to sit on his bed. He waited until Cassandra sat, back straight, then spoke. "I admit hesitation when she first told me of her… infatuation. It was an accident, a letter she wrote which she never intended to send. I was flattered but thought her decision unwise. Despite how I arrived in your organization, I am not entirely blind to the good works of the Inquisition. I was, however, blind to the Elder One's true goals and let myself be led astray by promises too easily broken. I misstepped," he admitted. "A mistake I intend to correct. The Magisterium has stripped me of rank and title, and I have been made a prisoner. It has humbled me."

Cassandra softened reluctantly at his words. Hearing the acceptance in his tone, that he knew he made a mistake endeared him ever so slightly to her. "And you think that you now deserve the affections of the Inquisitor because you have seen the light of your actions?"

"You're a very intelligent woman, Seeker. Do you believe that 'deserving' factors into this at all? Or that Evelyn is simply a consolation prize for my good behavior?"

"No," she huffed.

"You and I are both too old and have seen too much to think that way. I believe we're also both too wise to live with regret. While I think perhaps Evelyn will one day decide she'd prefer a younger man, someone not beholden to the organization, _I_ have decided that I would have regretted turning her down twice."

"Twice."

"It was almost three times, but she can be painfully stubborn."

Cassandra couldn't help but smile. "She is that." The smile faded. "She mentioned courting. You are handling this with propriety, I expect."

"I am a gentleman above all things," Alexius said with light offense. "If nothing else comes of this, she will at least understand what it's like to be treated properly by any future paramours."

"You truly think she may change her mind?"

"I sincerely hope she does not." He smiled almost sadly as he said it. "I am a practical man, however, no longer blinded by the trappings of youth. I'm afraid I'm a bit disenchanted by it all from having experienced too much of life."

"I understand."

"That doesn't mean, however, that I will ever stop Evelyn from wanting to experience the delights of youth."

Cassandra held up a hand. "We can stop there before I end up hearing too much."

"Very well. And have you come to your conclusion?"

She nodded and stood as he did, then held out her hand. "Thank you for your honesty. I cannot pretend that this isn't unorthodox but I believe your intentions are pure. And if they are not, know that I will not hesitate to kill you in a second, especially if you hurt her."

Alexius smiled and shook her hand firmly. "I somehow expected that statement to come sooner in our conversation."

"And I expect you find it amusing."

"That doesn't mean I don't take it seriously, Seeker."

She snorted. "Good." She stopped as she opened his door. "You should be made to feel more comfortable here, considering everything you've done now. Consider this an open invitation to dine with us in the throne room on Saturday evenings."

"I shall take the invitation into consideration."

Satisfied for now, Cassandra left, wondering what repercussions this would have but at least no longer worried for Eve's sake.

-

A very brief visit and a quick exchange in their shared journal was unfortunately all Eve had time for with Alexius before duty called her back to the Storm Coast. While she wasn't looking forward to dealing with the Qunari, having Bull at her side made it easier. Unfortunately the entire thing felt like an unmitigated disaster and as the dreadnought sank (exploded) into the sea, she wondered if she'd made the right move. Gatt – and there was an unpleasant elf if she'd ever met one – informed Bull officially that he was no longer of the Qun. It was a somber moment, but as Eve stood next to him, watching him exchange insults with Krem, looking over the rest of the Chargers, she couldn't regret the choice she made.

Returning to Skyhold lasted all of four hours before she was summarily informed about Blackwall's decision to travel to Val Royeaux earlier that day to attend an execution. Unsure as to why he would do this as it seemed odd, Eve made the call to follow. And she was glad she did. With so much travel and so little time to rest, her head spun with the information that the man she knew as Blackwall was not, in fact, who he said he was. 

While Cullen and Cassandra both voiced their opinions, very loudly and vehemently as it were, Eve made her decision: he would return to Skyhold for judgment. Cassandra, she knew, would respect her choice in the end once she properly explained herself. And Cullen… well, she tried very hard not to think about him. Things had gotten to the point of being overly complicated and just short of antagonistic. She was pretty sure they hadn't hit that point yet only because they were both very good at avoiding one another.

Then, finally, she returned to Skyhold again at long last. Waiting for her in her quarters was a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers in a colorful vase made of cracked glass. A note attached read:

_Evelyn,_

_While you were away I was allowed to leave Skyhold to collect a few certain things I needed for my next draught. The soldiers that accompanied me were good enough to give me the time necessary to pick these for you. I've placed a spell on them to lock them in time so they'll remain fresh for when you return. Your spymaster assures me they'll be waiting for you._

_I'm counting the days._

_-Gereon_

Another note, tucked under the vase, was addressed to her from Leliana:

_Inquisitor,_

_I'm assured that the vase is made from the finest glasswork in Serault. Consider it my gift to both you and the magister as a victory in love amidst the horrors of war._

_-L_

Eve sank heavily into her chair, feeling overwhelmed. If the last couple of weeks had been stressful, this was the relief. Friends, loved ones, people who supported her, surrounding her and holding her up. Usually upon her return to the castle she would check over her letters and take a bath before going to see Alexius, but right now all she wanted was to be in his arms. Shedding her mud-caked coat at least, she left her room, clutching the note from him.

Whispers followed her as she beat the familiar path to Alexius's door. It was difficult to tell now who knew and who only suspected, but Skyhold was worse than the Circles with their rumors. She knocked and only had to wait a few seconds before the door opened. He was there, wearing thick velvet robes of the darkest red, a gold dragon embroidered over the breast pocket. It was a change from his usual nondescript clothing, and he was much better suited to this rich fabric.

"It's cliché," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "but you are a sight for sore eyes."

She walked into his embrace, burying her face against his chest, and heard the door close behind her. His arms wrapped around her and for the longest time she didn't move, drawing strength from him. He kissed the top of her head, then pressed his cheek against it, resting, letting her collect herself.

"How have you been?" she asked, muffled against the soft velvet.

"A far sight better than you, I think." He squeezed her tightly and then guided her to the bed to sit.

Eve lifted a hand and let a haphazard burst of magic flow from her palm toward the door. It glowed blue, then disappeared. "Dorian taught me that."

Alexius chuckled. "A ward. He would know that one." He tilted her chin up toward him, kissing her gently. "Tell me. Did you get my flowers?"

She smiled. "That's why I came here before… oh, shit," she realized, standing up.

Alexius looked at her quizzically.

"My robes, they're covered in mud. Your bed-"

"Is fine."

She pulled at the ties to her robes, hurriedly undressing. "Sorry. I was so caught up in wanting to see you." Leaning over, she pulled off her boots and socks and noticed her leathers were muddied as well, and removed them too.

"Evelyn, it's fine. And if you remove any more clothing I'm afraid the door will need more than a simple obscuring ward."

She looked at herself, dressed now only in a thin undershirt and loose cotton pants that stopped at the knee. "Oh. Well. I'm clean now at least, after a fact." The muddied clothing was in a pile on his floor.

Alexius's expression was an odd mix of amusement and arousal as he eyed her. Feeling slightly self-conscious, she crossed her arms but smirked.

"You've got new robes," she pointed out.

"I've been writing several letters to the Imperium. A friend of the family has been taking care of my affairs of the estate and she deemed it necessary that I have at least 'something decent' to wear while I'm here. I believe she thinks both Dorian and I are suffering terrible hardships away from decent fashion and food."

Eve laughed. "Is everyone in Tevinter like that? Even you?"

He smiled almost apologetically. "I do enjoy the finer things in life. Maevaris understands this. Though my need for a decent set of robes is much less than Dorian's, it's nice to know that I've a home to return to, should…"

"You will," Eve promised. She returned to him, her knees pressed against his, and took his hand. "Once this is over and Corypheus is dead, if you want to go back, I'll see that you have a full pardon. I… don't think I could manage before that, and…" She trailed off, not wanting to admit the very obvious reason of wanting to keep him here.

"It's not a hardship to stay," he said gently, pulling her forward.

He meant to pull her sideways into his lap, but Eve straddled him instead, enjoying the surprised look it earned her. "Even if you're missing your big estate and all your fancy clothes?" She ran her fingertips over the embroidery and pouted.

Alexius took her hand, lips brushing over her fingers, then pulled her down for a kiss. "Even then, _mellita_."

"I don't know that one," she said, though hardly minded. "Can I go with you?"

"Hm?" He was currently occupied, placing soft kisses up her arm.

"To Tevinter when you go." It was something she'd been considering. When Corypheus was defeated, once the Inquisition took care of the Venatori and the red templars and there were no longer any rifts left to close, she would need somewhere to go. Not that she didn't like Skyhold, but it wasn't permanent. The Inquisition wasn't permanent. Mother Giselle had said as much about her predecessor, though that was several centuries ago. The Chantry would likely be reformed, and she had no desire to be thrown in a Circle again, even if Grand Enchanter Fiona made the call for change. How could she go back when she'd seen so much?

He slid the sleeve of her undershirt off her shoulder and pressed his lips to the bared skin, thinking. "If that's what you truly want. Once your duties are finished here." He sat back a little, looking at her in wonderment. "How does one retire properly after saving the world?"

She grinned. "If I ever meet anyone who's saved the world, I'll let you know. Maybe the Hero of Ferelden will stop by for a bite to eat."

Alexius chuckled, pulling her down for another kiss. "Mm. You'll have to introduce us. Speaking of…"

"Of what?" She tilted her head, letting her hair fall over her shoulder, then in a move she'd seen some of the older girls in her Circle do, pressed her arms close, squeezing her breasts together to show off her cleavage.

He brushed her hair back and kissed her shoulder, then took her arms gently. "You are beautiful without even trying."

Slightly embarrassed that he recognized what she was trying to do, Eve deflated just a bit, exhaling upward. Her hair fell in her face in a defeated sort of manner. "One day I'll be like a heroine in a romance novel. All flowing locks and heaving bosoms."

He was trying not to laugh. "Oh, Evelyn. Your bosom is adequate, I promise you." To prove his point he ducked his head to kiss one, then the other, and nuzzled between them briefly. "I appreciate your curiosity in all things."

She smiled as he tucked her hair back behind her ear. "I guess," she relented, and rested her arms on his shoulders, lacing her fingers behind his head. "You're not so bad yourself."

"High praise indeed," he teased her.

Eve leaned in and kissed him firmly, enjoying the way his hands moved to her back and held her close. She shifted to wrap her legs around his waist and whimpered softly. "More than that," she whispered against his lips. "Gorgeous. Sexy."

"I thought I'd reached the age where I could be referred to as 'refined'."

"You were _born_ refined, I'm sure," she said, rolling her eyes. "Dressed in perfectly pressed clothes, speaking high Tevene or whatever it's called while minding your manners and sipping tea with your pinky finger out."

Alexius laughed then reached down suddenly and squeezed her ass, eliciting a surprised squeal, causing her to squirm. "Only in public," he promised. "I'm practically hedonistic in private. But again – Mm," he broke off as she kissed him.

Eve relaxed against him, holding his shoulders as they kissed. Unconsciously she began to roll her hips, seeking friction, already aroused. He held her hips, controlling the motion, thumbs brushing over skin before hooking into the waistband of her pants.

"Gereon," she whispered between kisses. "I want you."

He smiled. "I know you do."

"You're going to make me wait even longer, aren't you?" she sighed. "Ugh. You're insufferable." She slumped against him, head on his shoulder, but made happy contented noises as he started to rub her back, his hand warm through the thin fabric.

"Just a bit longer," he agreed.

"Why?" The whiny tone to her voice was embarrassing, but she couldn't help it. Tonight she would return to her quarters, to her bath, and her empty bed. Cassandra knew about their relationship. Leliana knew. Maker, likely everyone who was even paying attention probably knew. She should just order him to move to her quarters or something and then she'd only miss him when she had to leave. _Maybe he can come with me sometime,_ she thought, and amusingly enough the thought of having Alexius fight at her side was more exciting than the idea of having sex with him.

"I want it to be perfect for you. And not in this dismal little room."

"Can I be completely sappy?" she asked, still resting against him.

"Of course."

"It would be perfect because it's with you. Doesn't matter where. That's how it was in the Circle anyway. Not that I… Never mind."

"I'm sure you've noticed that I'm not some overeager adolescent apprentice looking to rut for the first time," he soothed, his fingers running through her hair now. "I assume you waited for a good reason."

"Well it wasn't because the Maker told me to," Eve confirmed. "I suppose I just didn't know what I wanted yet. But now I do and I don't want to wait."

"But I do. Not just for you," he assured her. "The anticipation of something is oftentimes sweeter than the end result."

"I'm sure the results are going to be pretty sweet no matter how long you make me beg." She kissed his cheek, then nipped at his earlobe, where she noticed a tiny hole. "You had an earring?"

"In my youth. I was around your age when I had it done. A bit foolish."

"Why foolish?" She felt him smile against her cheek. "Tell me?"

"I had it done against my father's wishes. The needle wasn't cleaned properly. It became infected and I fell ill. Then, later, I had it redone properly after I married Livia and kept it until Felix was old enough to grab at it."

That made her laugh and she sat back to look at him, his eyes crinkled with the happy memory. "I bet you were the best father."

"I was a nervous wreck the entire time," he admitted. "I have no idea how I managed on so little sleep. Subsisted on coffee and anxiety."

She grinned, reaching up to touch the corner of his mouth. "I love when you smile. You should talk about them more."

"Perhaps," he said, turning to kiss her fingers. "Ah, what I was saying before you continuously interrupted me. Your Seeker has invited me to dine with you all on Saturday evenings. Would that be acceptable?"

"Cassandra?" Eve asked, surprised. When Cassandra said she was going to have a word with Alexius, that wasn't exactly the outcome she expected. "I mean yes. Of course it'd be fine." 

She did a mental headcount, thinking of those who showed up to dine with them on the regular and what kind of backlash to anticipate. Sera would make jokes about it. Dorian would possibly behave for once. Bull might take issue, but he would be tactful, she thought. Cassandra and Leliana would accept it. Solas… well, he was a bit unpredictable. She hoped he wouldn't mind. Varric would have fodder for his stories – she _really_ hoped he didn't write this into his book, if only for Alexius's sake and his privacy. After everything that happened with Blackwall, she doubted he would come, though she would ask and make sure he knew the invitation was still open. Josephine would be courteous no matter what. And then there was Cole. Barring any dips into her head concerning what she might be thinking about Alexius, that wouldn't be an issue either. _And Cullen,_ she added, though he'd been not so conspicuously absent lately.

"I would hate to intrude."

"Gereon, shut up." She winced. "Sorry. I only mean that it's not fair you should eat alone every night. Since going the tavern probably isn't an option without people commenting and I _know_ what you would say if I offered to tell them to stop-"

"You needn't do-"

"I just said I know," she repeated, kissing him quiet. "All right? Eat with us. That way you don't have to be alone all the time, you get to keep your pride, and I don't have to start throwing fireballs and get banned from my own tavern."

"Now that would be a shame."

She shrugged. "Maybe. The beer is kind of disgusting. Despite Cabot's insistence, it really does taste like nug." She smiled when he laughed, touching the corner of his mouth again. "Good. Now I think I should get dressed and get myself upstairs for a bath. Unless you want to change your mind about ravishing me."

"I still have it in my mind to ravish you," he assured her. "But I think that's for the best for now."

Eve groaned in disappointment but slid carefully from his lap and started to dress, liking the way he watched her, his eyes moving up her legs to her ass. "One day I'll get you see you in your smalls."

"You'll find I'm not nearly as impressive."

"I run around the country fighting strange crap every day. Muscles are inevitable even if I'm just standing back and casting spells."

"I was also referring to your youth."

Eve tugged her boots on and huffed. "Yes, yes, you're old. We get it."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Thought we weren't going to talk about that anymore," she said, hands on her hips, trying to look intimidating, scowling when he laughed and stood. She did feel slightly mollified when he kissed her, and followed him to the door, fingers entwined in his. "I'll come by later. And tomorrow. And then Saturday to let you know when we're eating."

"I'm looking forward to it," he said softly, giving her one last kiss before gently ushering her out the door.

And so was Eve.


	12. Chapter 12

Eve didn't quite arrive to dinner on Alexius's arm, but she may as well have. After a few quick kisses in his room to help calm her nerves, they left together through the library, and she was all too aware of Grand Enchanter Fiona's eyes upon her. It made her feel a bit guilty. After all, she had great respect for the woman who pushed so strongly for change. However, Fiona's agreement with Alexius had been out of desperation, not an altruistic move on his part, and had the Inquisition not intervened, who knew where those mages would be now? It wasn't a good thought.

 _It doesn't matter,_ she told herself firmly as she descended the stairs. Alexius lightly touched the small of her back, but the touch was gone just as quickly. She wished she _could_ take his arm and stop all this hiding. It felt wrong to lie to her friends in such a way, especially now that Cassandra knew. Maybe it would all come out at this dinner. She frowned as they gained the rotunda, Solas lifting a hand in greeting. He would be joining them, but possibly late as he seemed engaged in a rather heavy read. Anxiety and a very weak fear gripped her. What if everyone found out and they hated her for it? It was one thing to visit Alexius discreetly, but this was all but declaring their relationship, wasn't it?

Alexius took her arm just before the final door, pausing in the alcove slightly out of Solas's sight. "If you wish me to return to my room, I won't be offended."

"Do you think I'm that type of person?" she asked, defensive due to her anxiety. "Gereon, I lo…" She frowned. "I love you."

He looked mildly surprised but was unable to hide the smile. "Do you now?"

"I don't like being away from you. And I hate hiding this," she said, entwining their fingers loosely. "What even does it mean to love someone in such a way? Does it matter? I'll say it because I mean it. Because it feels right."

He leaned in, pressing her against the stone wall, and kissed her. Eve sighed happily, feeling his thumbs slowly stroke along her cheekbones. It was reassuring, calming. It felt good to be here and her fears were assuaged. Even if her friends didn't like her choice, she could talk to them, explain it to them. They loved her and stood beside her in everything. There was no reason to think they would stop being her friend just because of this.

"Excuse me."

And there was the first test. Eve couldn't help but laugh if only to herself when Alexius pulled away. Solas was of course standing in the archway, looking at them.

"Not exactly the way I'd want you to find out," Eve admitted. "It's-"

"All very well," Solas finished for her. "I suspected as much and meant to address the issue with you prior to this moment."

It made sense. Solas was often there when she made her late night trips into the library. With Dorian already gone to bed and Fiona and Helisma finished with their daily duties, there were few others she could have been going to see.

"And?" she asked hopefully, reaching blindly, finding Alexius's hand and holding on tight. He, thankfully, remained silent for now.

"I cannot pretend the idea entirely pleases me, but your personal affairs are just that. People should seize any chance for a moment's respite in times such as these."

Eve let impulse guide her, stepping up to Solas and hugging him. "Thank you."

He hesitated but embraced her loosely. Touch always seemed a somewhat foreign concept to him, except when he asked to examine her hand or to heal a wound. He lowered his voice, whispering so that Alexius could not overhear. "Perhaps you will give him the courage he needs. Yours is a spirit rarely seen in this age, da'len."

She blushed as she always did when she received a compliment from Solas, and stepped back, grinning at him. "Maybe," she agreed. Cole's words came back to her, Alexius's grim thoughts, and she looked at him now, smiling faintly at her. "Well that's one," she proclaimed. With Cassandra, Leliana, Dorian, and now Solas supporting her, she felt a little better. Cole, of course, was pleased with the arrangement as it was quite obvious they made each other very happy.

"Indeed," Alexius agreed, holding the door open for her and Solas both.

The throne room was empty save for her friends gathered at the far table which was already laden with plates of food and bottles of wine. Cassandra nodded in greeting as they approached, and Eve felt a little nervous as Alexius held her chair for her. She knew it was ingrained in him, noble breeding and manners, but it felt very telling especially when half the table looked at her quizzically and the other half seemed to find the ceiling or their plates very interesting. Alexius took a seat next to her, Solas at the end. Of the usual group that normally gathered, Cullen and Leliana were absent. The former made sense, as he seemed sometimes to find some work to do with the unspoken agreement that they avoid one another. The latter, however… she would have liked to have had one more ally in this at the table.

Dorian poured wine for them both, smiling at Alexius in greeting. "It's good to see you out of that dismal cave you call a room."

"What's he doing here?" Sera said, immediately suspicious.

"I invited him," Cassandra said at once. "Magister Alexius-"

"Just Alexius is fine," he interrupted briefly. "I'm afraid I left my title back in Tevinter."

"Should've left your arse back in Tevinter," Sera huffed.

"He's here now," Eve said, fixing her with a stare. Sera's views were often narrow but understandable. Magic frightened her, and while Dorian possessed an affable nature, Alexius would have fallen quickly into Sera's "bad guy" spectrum. Along with, "rich snot," she thought, noting the decorative forest green robes he wore now. 

"Could change that, though. Nothing's permanent, right?"

"I hope it is," Eve countered. "I enjoy his company." She let the implication settle for a moment, spooning some of the thick stew into her bowl, then swore quietly. "I guess there's no getting around this, then."

"Eve-" Cassandra said.

"It's already awkward anyway," she said, looking around the table. Dorian seemed very interested in his wine glass, while Solas was looking at her intently. Bull rolled his eye, but nodded at her. Cole was smiling lightly, while Josephine appeared somewhat alarmed. Varric, near the end of the table, had a raised eyebrow and a somewhat eager expression on his face. Blackwall, who'd deigned to join them for once, was frowning down at his plate. "Whatever rumors you heard regarding us are likely true."

"Except the one where he's got you in some kind of weird Venatori magical mind-control spell," Bull said. "Should clarify that."

Eve sighed, hands twisting in her lap nervously. 

Alexius reached over and held them. "Indeed I do not," he agreed.

"What?" Sera said, looking between. "You and the evil magister?" She laughed. "You're joking, right? He's like a hundred and fifty years old!"

"You're off by a few," Dorian muttered idly, draining his glass and pouring another.

"Quite," Alexius agreed, though didn't seem to be offended.

Eve was not about to discuss her personal life, not in detail anyway. They didn't need to know how Alexius made her feel. After all, she never pried into their love lives or asked for gossip. Being the Inquisitor meant her personal life was on display and open to criticism from every corner of Thedas, she knew that. But these were her friends.

"It's a good thing you're not with him then," Eve said gently, "if that bothers you."

Sera scoffed. "As if that's what's at the top of the, 'This shite is weird' list. He's, y'know-"

"Tevinter?" Dorian said, his tone just on the other side of annoyance.

"Yeah but you're different!" Sera insisted.

"Perhaps we could discuss this at another time," Cassandra suggested, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Not discussin' nothin' with him," Sera declared, standing up. "Ruined a perfectly good pie," she added, but shoveled another forkful into her mouth before leaving.

Eve started to stand, but Bull waved her back into her seat. "I'll go. You stay. We'll talk later if you want." He looked at Alexius, eye narrowed a little, made a displeased sort of grunting noise, and left.

It was somewhat expected, Eve thought. Sera would likely never understand it, but Bull seemed to, even if he also seemed eager to punch Alexius in the face the way he looked at him. She gripped Alexius's hand, squeezing, then let go. "A bit of a show with dinner," she said, trying to inject some confidence in her tone, but it came out half-hearted.

"As much as the entertainment's appreciated," Varric started.

"A man looking to redeem himself," Blackwall interrupted.

"It's a good plot point," Varric acknowledged. "Everyone loves a comeback story."

"Please," Eve sighed. "Please can we not talk about publishing my private affairs?"

Josephine finally spoke, clearing her throat politely. "Your private affairs which will likely become public rather sooner than later."

"Am I supposed to apologize?" Eve asked, looking up, feeling tired. Though the stew in front of her smelled delicious, she found she'd lost her appetite.

"Not at all," Josephine assured her. "Only I think we will have much to discuss following this… this revelation."

Eve pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache just behind her eyes. "If our allies ask about it, politely inform them it's none of their business what I do behind closed doors and forcefully remind them what the Inquisition is here to do."

"While that is the intention, I'm not so sure they would be so understanding. With no offense to you, of course, Magister Alexius."

He nodded graciously, allowing her the use of his defunct title in acknowledgment of her ineffable politeness. It was, Eve expected, highly appreciated considering the reception so far.

"Let them have their rumors," Eve said, finally picking up her wine glass and drinking deeply. "My friends will stand by me in this. They know the truth of it. I knew there would be fallout and to be perfectly frank, I don't give a rat's ass." She raised her glass a little.

"Hear, hear," Dorian said, reaching past Alexius to clink his glass gently to hers.

"Be that as it may-" Josephine began again.

"Leave it for now," Cassandra ordered. "Let us just enjoy the meal and take care of whatever comes when it comes."

"I agree," Eve said. "Everyone else?"

There was a general assent among those remaining and the meal continued, conversation returning and things felt fairly normal even as Bull returned and dropped into his seat. He had a quiet word with Blackwall who nodded, and both men seemed relatively at ease. Eve hope that meant good news regarding Sera, and glanced at Alexius. He smiled at her and she couldn't help the grin that spread over her face.

"Aw, look, she's all aglow," Varric pointed out.

"She's happy," Cole said, as if explaining. "Thinking about him eases the fear and uncertainty. In return, she takes his pain and makes it softer, turns it to remembrance instead of regret."

"An astute observation," Alexius said, taking Eve's hand, entwining their fingers. He kissed her knuckles, causing her grin to widen, a slight blush to her cheeks.

Cole seemed rather pleased with himself, Solas giving him a small, approving smile.

Dorian groaned. "Is there anything sappier than a man in love?"

"World could use a bit more of that," Bull pointed out.

"Jealous," Eve quipped.

Dorian raised his glass in either mock acknowledgement or sincere envy, and finished it. "I believe that's me for the night, though. I'll skip dessert which appears to be coming now," he said as the doors to the throne room opened.

Eve frowned. The servants would bring up dessert through the kitchens, not the main doors. She leaned forward to see what it was, the mood at the table shifting as the others came to the same conclusion. Leliana and Cullen were flanking a third person she thought she'd never seen before. Then with a sudden jolt, she recognized him. "Maxwell!" She nearly tripped getting to her feet, racing the length of the throne room, and threw herself into her brother's arms.

Maxwell still had the coloring of their father, his blond hair a strange contrast to her own dark locks inherited from their mother. His eyes were the same color blue, however, and he looked as if he'd been in the sun lately, his usually pale skin now tanned. He also had grown impossibly tall since she'd last seen him, just past her twelfth birthday. He'd come to deliver a present, a dozen small cakes he purchased himself from their favorite bakery, and to inform her that he would no longer be allowed to visit anymore as per their father's orders. It wasn't the first time she cried in the Circle, but it was probably the most memorable. Still, she remembered a small, scrawny, fourteen year old boy who was just learning how to wield a sword. He was still thin as most Trevelyans on their side of the family tended to be, but he'd become stronger, lifting her up easily in a tight hug.

"Evie! It's so good to see you." He kissed her forehead, holding her at arm's length. "Maker's breath, look at you."

"And you!" she agreed, grinning, all thoughts of his last letter gone momentarily now that he was in front of her. "Look, you started to shave," she joked, reaching up to touch the scruff on his cheeks.

"Pardon the delay, Inquisitor," Leliana said. "Your brother arrived this morning and we would have informed you earlier."

"Too many spies in the ranks," Cullen explained. "We had to be sure."

"They questioned me for hours," Maxwell agreed. "I had to show my identification papers twice."

An odd mix of emotion accompanied this information. However, Leliana and Cullen were only doing their jobs, what they needed to do to keep her safe. She nodded at Leliana, then looked at Cullen. "Thank you, Commander. It's appreciated." It was an offer of peace, and he nodded but it was difficult to say whether or not it was accepted. She would address it again later if he allowed her, and instead looked to Maxwell. "If you wrote, you idiot, you would've been expected."

"After my last letter went unanswered I wasn't sure I would've been received," Maxwell admitted. "Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"

But Eve was already taking his hand, dragging him to the table. "Everyone this is Maxwell, my brother." She introduced everyone in turn, starting with Dorian around the table until she stopped at Alexius. "And Gereon Alexius, a valuable part of the Inquisition." She opened her mouth to add something about their relationship, but stopped. It wasn't as if she was embarrassed, not after the gauntlet she'd just run with her friends. But it was slowly dawning on her that this wasn't the Maxwell she remembered. The hurtful words he'd written in his letter came back to her slowly and her earlier excitement was waning fast.

"Ah, the magister," Maxwell acknowledged.

Eve's head snapped up, looking at him with wide, curious eyes.

"Why do you think I'm here, Evie?" he asked softly. "Mother and Father have heard some… troubling things. Now it's not exactly prudent for me to voice the concerns the noble house of Trevelyan has regarding the Inquisition – you seem a fine organization after all."

While Cassandra looked murderous with the veiled insults, it was Josephine's calculated expression that weighed the heaviest. She'd had dealings with the Trevelyans and other noble houses across the Free Marches, handling their allies with the utmost care. The city-states were few when it came to dissenters, and it seemed that Maxwell might have been inflating himself just a bit.

"I did want to speak with you in private," he added, as if this confrontation was entirely Eve's fault.

She saw it now what she'd seen in the letter. His arrogance, his smug look as if he'd gotten the upper hand despite being surrounded by those who stopped short of insulting him if only because he was their Inquisitor's family member.

"What are you talking about?" she asked. Her mother and father hadn't cared one whit about her at that fateful party, nor after when they allowed three armored templars to haul her away from them, terrified and crying. But she was no longer that scared little girl. She'd faced ten times the amount of hardship and nightmarish things that any other Trevelyan had or ever would.

"The rumors that you were being seduced by a much older magister from Tevinter. I'm disappointed to find them true."

It was a little dizzying to think that the details of her relationship, true or not, had made it as far as Ostwick. Did everyone truly care that much? Weren't Corypheus and his armies the more pressing issues? _I never should have underestimated the nobles and their ability to gossip. Sera was right – a bunch of shits, the lot of them._

"I wasn't _seduced_ ," Eve ground out, hands furled into fists as Maxwell crossed his arms, looking from her to Alexius, whose expression was carefully controlled aside from slightly narrowed eyes. "I think you should go and I'll talk to you after I've finished here."

"But we're already in it, Evie," Maxwell said lightly, looking a little sad, and the concern for her seemed disingenuous somehow. He leaned over a little, and while his tone dropped to a whisper, it was obvious he was not trying to hide his words from anyone. "You know how disappointed Father would be? Have your issues with your magic become so overwhelming that you decided to replace him with this poor facsimile?"

The moment following the insult was tumultuous, the shouts from Blackwall and Cassandra drowning out the others' protests. But Alexius had reached his feet first, a dangerous expression on his face. Eve was pulled back out of the way by Bull, who must've seen the silence coming before Maxwell threw the technique directly at Alexius. She cried out in surprise, not realizing her brother must've trained in templar abilities, the feeling of betrayal complete with the motion. Dorian, caught next to Alexius, fell back into his chair and toppled to the ground. Solas moved to his side at once to help, and Blackwall and Cullen were already subduing Maxwell. Cassandra approached, steak knife in hand, brandishing it like a dagger, ordering them both to remove him from the hall. Cole, it seemed, had disappeared into the shadows while Josephine was well out of harm's way.

Alexius however, remained on his feet, eyes narrowed. He held out a hand and let a burst of flame fill it, burning so bright and hot that Eve felt it even on the other side of the table. And he was looking directly at Maxwell. It was both a threat and a promise. The silence hadn't affected him, or perhaps he was quick enough to shield his mana before it hit. Either way, Eve hadn't seen power like that ever in her life that she could recall. Dorian could have possibly blocked the technique had he been prepared, and Solas was always carefully on the defensive. But there was no way her mana pool would've survived that, the last silence she was hit with draining her fully, requiring a vial of lyrium to replenish herself.

Before she could say so, or express her shock at what just happened, Alexius had rounded the table, fire extinguished, and she was in his arms. 

Bull made a satisfied sort of noise and let her go, looking at Solas and Dorian. "All right?"

"Just the pride and a bruised backside," Dorian assured him, thanking Solas.

Eve rested against Alexius's chest, heart racing. The adrenaline faded slowly and she shut her eyes tight. A second later she felt Dorian's hand on her shoulder and looked up. "I'm fine," she said. It was a half-lie. She wasn't physically hurt after all, Bull having moved too quickly for that. "Everyone else?"

Bull grunted. "Red and Cullen took him out. Think he might suffer more than a bruise from them or Blackwall."

"He'll be lucky if he doesn't end up with a bunch of holes in him from Cassandra," Dorian agreed.

Eve then looked to Josephine, who stood with a hand against her chest, eyes wide. "Josephine?"

"Quite well, Inquisitor," she assured her. "I would hate to think what this would do regarding our alliance with the noble families of Ostwick. If you'll excuse me, I have some letters to pen."

"I couldn't do this without you," Eve said at once, realizing just what a messy position she'd put Josephine in. Both with her relationship with Alexius that seemed to be much more public than she'd realized, and now with her brother.

The statement caused Josephine to blush ever so slightly and she gave a short curtsy before disappearing through the door to her office.

"You do know how to throw a decent party, Inquisitor," Varric said, plucking his journal from the table, which was covered in upturned dishes and broken glass. A tureen of stew was on its side and dripping to the floor.

"I assume that's going in the book," Eve sighed.

"I'm not one for awkward family reunions," Varric relented. "Maybe I'll write instead about how a dragonling charged in and tried to set the throne room on fire. Much more entertaining and believable, considering all the weird shit that happens to you anyway." He raised a hand in farewell and headed out.

Eve sighed in relief. Even if it wasn't in her biography, she was sure once Maxwell returned to the Free Marches he would tell the tale all the same. "I'm all right," she promised Dorian who was still looking at her in concern. "Dinner's not, though." 

"We'll get someone to take care of the mess," Dorian promised, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And perhaps another drink or three." He turned to look at Solas and Bull.

"I'll pass, but I thank you for the offer." Solas looked at Eve and nodded, then acknowledged Alexius, who was still holding her, with the same. "I believe I'll retire for the evening, though my door is open if you wish to discuss how to counter that particular technique," he offered.

"Thank you," Eve said gratefully.

"Guess it's just me and you," Bull said to Dorian, gesturing with his head. He looked at Eve. "You sure you're all right, boss?"

Eve nodded. "Thank you. For saving me. Yet again." She sighed.

"Hey it's what I do," Bull assured her. "My job to be the target while you take care of the other shit."

She grinned, thankful for that, and watched him leave with Dorian. The throne room was empty a few seconds later and she looked up at Alexius. "I'm so sorry."

"You've nothing for which to apologize, Evelyn," he said quietly.

She leaned into his touch, his fingers running through her hair. "My brother threw a silence at you. I would think if I was going to apologize for anything-" She paused. "No, it would probably be for the implication and insult instead of the silence."

He smiled and kissed her softly, a simple brush of his lips against hers. "I have been accused of worse by better men. I was offended only for your honor."

"My honor hardly needs you to be offended for it," she protested, then frowned. "That's what people will think, isn't it? That either you've seduced me or I… I have some weird father issues I'm working out." She barely remembered her father. While he'd certainly been present in her childhood, he had sons to groom into noblemen, leaving her to be tended by her mother and a bevy of servants and tutors to teach her other things.

"They likely will," he acknowledged.

"It's not true."

"I know, cara mia."

She leaned up, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. He pulled her close and her feet left the ground momentarily until the kiss ended. While the apprehension was still there, she felt reassured. Her friends had leapt – literally – to her defense. No matter what they might have thought about Alexius, whether they liked him or hated him, they respected her decision and still cared for her.

"Come to my room. Stay with me tonight," she pleaded. "I'm sure I'll have to deal with this in the morning, but for now I just want to… Please. Just sleep, nothing else."

Alexius kissed her forehead. "Of course."

It was a relief that she didn't have to push, to counter Alexius's potential argument that the arrangement would be somehow improper. Courting was a nice thought, but propriety could throw itself from the balcony for all she cared right now. She took his hand firmly and pulled him away from the sad mess that had been a nice dinner, and upstairs to her quarters.


	13. Chapter 13

Waking up in Alexius's arms had been the nicest morning she'd had in a long time. They talked after the disastrous dinner, a discussion of the immediate future, of what it meant now that their affair was public. Alexius acknowledged that it wasn't his place to address dissenters, though he promised he would write to his associate in Tevinter to clear up any misconceptions that might be circling around the Imperium's many watering holes. He was no longer anyone of great importance back home, but the Venatori would hear about this and likely use it to their advantage. It made him a larger target for their revenge as well. Eve knew she would need to do damage control, and trusted largely in Josephine to let her know what needed to be done. As far as their relationship around Skyhold, Eve insisted that public displays of affection were no longer an issue. Alexius, however, had a different thought.

_"They will be offended that you openly flaunt the relationship. To many, a mage from Tevinter is the same as a Ventori, and as I am an ex-party member, they will hold their discontent much more closely."_

She'd huffed and protested, but he insisted, which he didn't often do. Eve realized that she got her own way quite a bit when it came to him, and decided this was one area that maybe he understood a little better than she did. Politics and handling dissenters was not something she took to very well. It was easier to be the dashing hero, fight demons and bandits and seal rifts and have people appreciate her for the support and supplies the Inquisition brought in. But after the flash and sparkle of her heroism faded, of course they would gossip. Some would defend her character vehemently while others would lament her poor choice in bed partner.

She yawned against him now, face buried in his chest. They hadn't stopped by his quarters to pick out anything appropriate for sleeping, leaving him in his long-sleeved linen undershirt and thick samite trousers that matched the dark green robes currently draped over her couch. She'd changed in the other room at his insistence, choosing a slinky purple nightgown in hopes of enticing him. He'd appreciated the effort, but did nothing more than kiss her before they fell asleep together.

"Good morning," he said, and she felt the rumbling in his chest as he spoke.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked, rubbing at her blurry eyes. It was cold in the mornings, even with the fire still going. She tugged the blanket higher to her chin and around her head, cocooned safely against him.

"Not long. Did you sleep well?" he asked, tucking the blanket firmly around her.

She was about to reply with a rather canned, expected affirmation. However the realization that she _had_ slept well struck her at once. While sleeping in her bed at Skyhold was usually easier than out in the field where rifts and demons would pull at her unconscious mind, she couldn't remember one night in the last few months that hadn't caused her at least minimal distress. Usually it fled upon waking, and depending on the amount of restful sleep she got, there was a varying degree of irritation that followed her into consciousness.

"Evelyn?" he asked, looking down at her when the silence stretched.

She startled from her thoughts. "I'm surprised but yes. I did sleep very well. No nightmares that I can remember. I dreamt, but I don't remember them either. It's nice."

He kissed her forehead, lips warm and soft. "It pleases me to hear it."

"I want to stay here forever," she admitted, sliding one leg over his. While he'd held her often when they kissed, it was usually standing in his room or sitting on his bed. This was the first time she'd felt his body pressed against hers while they were both lying down. The possibilities excited her, especially with so little clothing between them.

"The world continues to move on with its day, and we wouldn't want to be left behind."

"Wouldn't we?" she countered. "What's out there anyway? It's all cold and snow and mud and demons."

He laughed. "That you equate discomfort due to weather with demons…"

"They're all bad in my opinion," she said flatly. "I wonder if my brother left or if he'll want to talk about what happened." She paused. "I don't want to talk about what happened."

"Family is a tricky thing," Alexius agreed.

"They hate me," she whispered. It was something she thought she could handle, something she _was_ handling. But Maxwell's arrival and declarations made it more real somehow. Away from Ostwick, she could push them from her mind and pretend they were either dead or had no idea where she was, terrified for her safety and unable to contact her. It was, she realized, an extension of the fantasies she and the other mage-apprentices concocted in the Circle. But she couldn't pretend anymore.

"No," Alexius countered. "They are bred to hate magic and thus hate the idea of what you've become. Polarizing figure that you are, leading the Inquisition, anyone who has gotten to know you would find it difficult – nay, impossible – to hate you."

"You're saying that just to make me feel better."

"Not just. Though I hope you take my words into consideration and they indeed make you feel better. You didn't deserve what was said, though I fear harsher criticism will come to your ears in the weeks to come." He tightened his hold around her, as if he could shield her from the hypothetical insults.

"I have a thick skin," she said, convincing neither of them. While she wouldn't exactly call herself weak, she knew her emotional vulnerabilities and tried hard to develop said proverbial thick skin. It was easier to let herself feel and experience it before letting it go, rather than forcing it to bounce off. However, a lot of times this meant bursts of rage or sadness followed by bouts of tears. At the very least, she managed to control her magic during that time. Usually. "Are you all right with it?"

"It takes more than one filthy accusation from a sheltered boy to upset me. Though I would happily set him aflame for hurting you." His tone, as well as the display last night, implied no jest.

Eve shivered a little, then slid atop him, chin cupped on her fist as she looked at him, blanket still tucked over her head. "It's incredibly sexy when you go protective like that."

"Is it?" he asked, hands on her back, stroking slowly. "I believe I remember a conversation we had in which you made a statement about not wanting to be a damsel in need of rescue."

"It's not the same," she insisted. "I didn't get captured by a dragon."

He chuckled. "I see. You'll have to forgive my ignorance on when I'm allowed to save you and when I should stand aside. It's been some time and I'm afraid I've forgotten the rules."

"Always save me. I'll tell you later if it was right or not," she said, grinning. "But I'm going to do the same. When I can, anyway."

"I believe you have already done that."

"Hm?"

"Saved me," Alexius whispered, and pulled her down for a kiss.

The implications of the heavy words weren't lost on Eve as she kissed him. Her hands splayed on either side of his head, holding herself up as she realized that maybe Alexius did need her as much as she needed him. It was strange, their relationship shifting around this way and that. She'd always thought of how the man should stand strong and provide for his wife, like her father not showing any emotion aside from the occasional note of pride. But Alexius was anything but typical. He'd shown how deeply he cared for his family, shedding tears for his son. He'd shown extreme tenderness with her, patience and care. And while he was there to hold her and listen to her detail her hardships both outside and within Skyhold, she was helping him just the same.

"I love you," she whispered when they broke apart. "I want this, no matter what anyone else says. And when it's over, I want to stay with you." She entertained a brief fantasy of living with him in a big estate, her mind filling the blanks in with memories of her own home in Ostwick. They would sit by the fire and drink coffee and she would listen to him talk about all the interesting things he'd done while celebrating her victory over Corypheus.

He ran his fingers through her hair carefully, then cupped her face, smiling. "Nothing would make me happier."

She kissed him again, mind wandering once more to the daydream of them living together as his tongue flickered against her lips. She allowed it, moaning softly as he drew magic-laden fingers down her back, a mix of heat and vibration loosening tense muscles. Unable to touch him, trying to keep herself propped up just a bit to kiss him more deeply, she parted her thighs, straddling one of his, and thrust forward. He gripped her hips at once, perhaps warningly, but she did it again, pleased with herself when he gasped and pulled back.

"Evelyn."

Smiling cheekily down at him, she asked, "Yes?" and rolled her hips again.

His expression darkened with lust, eyes narrowed, lips slightly parted. She felt his fingers hitch up her nightgown and lifted up, the fabric catching just under her breasts and he stopped. She pouted, but his hands were on her once more, manicured nails lightly scratching at her skin, causing her to shiver. She leaned down to kiss his cheek, his jaw, pleased when he tilted his chin up so she could nip at his throat. She grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled, wanting to see him. He relented, perhaps deciding that they were both finally ready, when Eve had wanted this for ages now. The undershirt became lost in the many bedclothes as she sat up a little, looking down at him.

He said nothing as she slowly explored, fingers brushing through the dark, silvery hair on his chest. It wasn't often she saw her companions in a state of undress save for Bull, whose partial nudity became rather normalized after a short while. His hands rested lightly on her thighs while she drew her thumbs over his skin, flicking his nipples, grinning when they went taut. She watched his eyes close when she drummed her fingertips lower, ghosting over his sides and stomach, looking curiously at the dark line of hair that led from his navel beneath his pants. His skin was mostly smooth save for a few scars and she took her time to trace them, wondering how he'd gotten them.

"What's this from?" she asked, touching one on his side, a deeper line with double parallel dots flanking it.

"Surgery. Thankfully the healing arts have improved over the years and the practice has become so routine it no longer leaves scars. I was not so fortunate."

"You lived. That's fortunate. And I like it." Eve leaned down at kissed it, and noticed a bit of black ink on his side, just below his ribs. Almost absently she rubbed at it, causing him to look down.

"My tattoo," he explained.

She grinned. "You have one? Let me see." She lifted up and pulled at his arm to turn him over, which he did with a laugh. "Oh! It's a dragon." Her fingers traced the black inked pattern up his back and over his shoulder blade.

"I'd gotten it in hopes of impressing Livia," he said.

Eve heard the hesitancy in his voice, as it usually was whenever he brought up his wife. She leaned down and kissed his shoulder, then let him lay back properly, straddling his thighs. "I bet she loved it."

He laughed. "She thought I was a fool. Such things are permanent unless one opts for magical extraction. Expensive and painful. But she enjoyed it in the end."

She thought about this a moment, wondering about a younger Alexius, perhaps not as confident as he was now, just as eager to learn about the world and about magic as she was. "Have any others?" she asked, curious.

"Around my ankle. Felix's name in calligraphy entwined with an old Tevene saying. 'Docendo Discimus'." He smiled when she tilted her head curiously. "'We learn by teaching.'"

"I can't think of anything more fitting for you than that."

She leaned down to kiss him again and he met her partway, propped up on an elbow. Fingers sank again into her hair, holding her in place, Eve moaned softly with his demands. She followed him down to the pillow, his free hand once again on her back, making lazy circle patterns. The nightgown, she decided, was in the way, and broke the kiss to tug it up and over her head, leaving her only a pair of silken purple smallclothes. He let out a breath, eyes trailing down her body, hands to follow, cupping her breasts lovingly. She grinned and leaned down once more, but over him, offering herself. He took advantage at once, dropping a kiss in the hollow between her breasts before his mouth found the sensitive nipple. She gasped, hips thrusting down, seeking friction and heat, but too far poised above him to find it.

"Gereon," she groaned, pressing her lips to the top of his head. "More."

He guided her up, not down, kissing her stomach, and Eve had to grab the gilded headboard to keep her balance. Though she was confused when he took her hips and pulled, she went without complaint, feeling his breath hot on her skin. His tongue dipped into her navel, then she felt his teeth tug at the lacy sides of her smalls. Her eyes widen as he nuzzled the inside of her thighs and she fought against the instinct to thrust down against his mouth. She did, however, bend her neck to watch. His thumbs drew along the sensitive flesh, just outside the edges of her smalls.

"Please," she whispered, instinctively tensing, then relaxing.

The tip of his thumb pressed against the silken fabric, then again with more pressure. Nothing she'd done in the past to try to find her own pleasure even came close to this, she thought. The fabric was damp with arousal and anticipation from earlier teasing and now she would have the experience to fuel further fantasies of him. The silk slid away as he carefully pulled it to the side, and with the first feel of his tongue against her sex, she cried out embarrassingly loudly. He did it again and she whimpered, nails digging into the headboard, fingers starting to hurt as she held on.

The lacy ties of her smalls were undone in short time, the scrap of fabric tossed aside. His arms curled around her thighs and she felt his fingers spread her open carefully, warm, wet tongue yet again pressed against her. She lost the details of what he was doing, how he was doing it, eyes shut and panting. He seemed to encourage her to press down against his face which she did enthusiastically as he thrust his tongue inside her. Rumors, wild and weird about this sort of thing, none of it could measure up to how fucking _good_ it felt. Her thighs ached with the effort to keep upright but it didn't matter. And then he did something that sent a pleasure wave through her nerves.

"Maker! Again. Do it again, please," she begged.

She felt his magic, a warm thrumming vibration as his thumb pressed against her, heat and electricity. With each flick of his finger, she felt that cascading euphoria that caused her to shiver and moan. It built inside her and she tensed, clenching her legs around his head, only vaguely aware that she might be hurting him. But he didn't stop and neither did she, pressing down against his mouth, seeking something she knew instinctively was just out of reach.

She begged him again for more and felt him slip his fingers inside her, gasping as they joined his tongue, his thumb pressing insistently on something that caused her body to convulse whenever he sent a thrum of magical energy across it. Overwhelmed, she squeezed her eyes shut, jagged whimpers working their way past her lips. She repeated his name, begging and pleading, and the delicious pressure only increased.

The temperature in the room plummeted suddenly but she didn't notice, a wordless babbling of praise as the feeling crested and dipped, then peaked again. She was panting, mouth dry, throat sore as she opened her eyes, laughing almost hysterically as little aftershocks of pleasure racked her body, aided by his tongue, which laved gently. Then, she saw the bed, ice covering the headboard and part of the mattress.

"Sorry," she managed, wincing as she moved aside, and collapsed awkwardly. Her hands were still cold as she placed one between her legs, feeling sore and swollen but indescribably good.

Alexius lay there a moment, catching his breath before licking his fingers, then his lips which were still wet and glistening. She cast around for something, eye catching her nightgown which was tossed aside earlier and carefully cleaned him off. He laughed and pulled her down for a kiss, which she gave, tasting traces of herself on his tongue. Then he sat up slowly, stretching, and with a lazy wave of his hand, cast a spell with a blue-green glow that made the ice melt and left everything dry and smelling like freshly laundered linens.

"Cara mia," he whispered, cupping her below the ear. He pulled her close and kissed her again. "There is nothing for you to be sorry about."

She smiled against his lips, her forehead pressed to his. "That was incredible."

He laughed. "Yes, from where I was as well."

"I don't think I ever felt that good. Ever." She squeezed her thighs together, legs aching.

"Good," he said, the word almost growled, and he kissed her once more, rather possessively.

She liked it. She liked the idea that she could rile him up like this. That he could respond so aggressively to the idea that he was her first. She wondered what it would be like when he finally took her. Fucked her. _Made love_ a sappy part of her brain provided. She didn't care what it was called, the idea of him being inside her was altogether too exciting and she wanted it soon. Now.

"Take me," she whispered. "Are you…" She looked down at him, but he was covered both by the blanket and the thick trousers and it was impossible to tell.

"Yes," he confirmed, smiling. He tucked her hair back behind her ear, then let his fingers drift down her neck and over her bared breasts. "But I think we've lingered long enough in bed this morning."

Eve frowned. "That's not fair." She wanted to give him what he'd given her. She didn't have any experience in it, but curiosity and a sense of justice swelled inside her.

His eyes crinkled when he smiled. "I don't want to hurt you. And after that, it would likely hurt. Rest assured I do very much intend to give you what you want. Just not right now."

She was pouting, and she knew she was pouting, crossing her arms over her chest to make a point of it. "Then let me at least do something for you."

He lay back in bed, one hand propping a fist against his head, the other gently stroking her thigh. "I require no reciprocation for that. It was my pleasure to give that to you."

"I think it was more _my_ pleasure than yours," she huffed. She pushed him back to the mattress and shoved the blankets down. "I'm going to anyway."

Her declaration made him laugh. "Are you?"

She was already untying the complicated knots of his pants. "Stupid Tevinter fashion," she muttered as one got stuck. He reached down and deftly unknotted it. "Thank you. Next time wear something easier to remove."

"When I dressed for dinner, the primary thought was not about what would be easiest to remove," Alexius said, eyebrow raised.

"It should have been," she declared, giving a triumphant, 'Hah!' when the ties came loose. "Let's see. Oh."

She'd seen glimpses before of what men looked like below the waist. Growing up with only brothers it wasn't unusual. Her companions were respectful if they needed to wash in the rivers of Ferelden after a fight, but she'd be lying if she said she never peeked. And of course there were anatomy books and risqué statues in Skyhold and all across Orlais. But she'd never seen a cock this close up before. He lifted his hips, slowly pushing his pants down his thighs.

"No smalls," she said, grinning.

"Never cared for them. I do like the way you look in yours though," he added. "The style was particularly convenient for removal."

Eve blushed. It hadn't been her intention to make it easier _or_ more difficult for him. She just thought the bows on the sides looked pretty. "Well nothing is more convenient than none at all. Can I?"

"You may do whatever you like, my love."

The endearment made her feel very, very good. That she was precious to him, that he cared about her, it made her want to bring him the same pleasure he'd brought her. He was already hard, cock pointed upward toward his stomach, the line of dark hair from his navel ending in a thatch of small curls. Deciding she would start slowly, she took him in hand. Her first impression was that of something solid wrapped in something soft, like warm velvet upholstery on a sturdy chair. He let out a breath.

"Is that all right?"

"Yes," he assured her, his voice thick with arousal. "Truly I'm not sure if there's a wrong way."

She laughed, running her fingertips down his shaft, exploring, gently taking the soft sac beneath it in her hand. Alexius closed his eyes, head back on the pillow while she alternated in watching what she was doing and glancing at his expression. His chest rose and fell quickly with heavy breath as she continued, not realizing how badly she was teasing him. He seemed determined to let her learn though, fingers gently gripping the sheets, occasionally looking down at her. She wrapped a firm hand around him and pumped slowly. He groaned, hips rising just a bit, and she smoothed her thumb over the head, smearing the bit of precome. Curious, she leaned down and licked.

"Evelyn," he breathed, reaching for her.

"Stop fussing," she said taking his hand and squeezing it before letting it go. "I want to."

With little finesse but staunch enthusiasm, she took him into her mouth, careful to keep her teeth out of the way. She heard the quiet noises he made, the rapid increase in his breathing as she experimented. After all he'd said there wasn't a wrong way to do it, but hoped to bring him to climax as he'd done for her. She glanced up, tongue swirling around the tip of his cock, when she felt his fingers in her hair, tucking it back so he could watch her. He smiled, though his eyes closed quickly when she moved lower. An encouraging groan and she went further until she gagged a little and had to pull back.

He started to sit up. "Evelyn-"

"I said stop fussing," she insisted again, reaching up to push him back to the mattress. 

She licked her lips and tried again with renewed determination. It didn't take long for her to find a rhythm he seemed to like, saliva mixed with precome providing a slick glide for her to stroke him while concentrating on the tip of his cock. It was easier than taking him in entirely, and she felt proud of herself with every noise he made. He was so quiet, it was almost a challenge. She wondered what it would take to make him scream like she'd done, or if he was normally like this.

"Keep doing that," he whispered when she started to bob her head, hand moving with her mouth. "Just like that." A strangled sort of noise caught in the back of his throat.

Eve tried not to smile, closing her eyes and humming softly. She would have to learn to better control her magic so she could give him the same teasing heat and vibration that he'd given her. But for now, this was safest. Her jaw ached a little, but she listened to the soft sounds he was making, and redoubled her efforts, speeding up, wanting to bring him to climax.

"I'm close," he warned, still quiet, a hand resting on her shoulder.

She knew what was going to happen, had heard girls in the Circle boast about getting the boys off, and listened to the conversations about what to do when it happened. His cock seemed to pulse in her palm, and she felt his hand push on her shoulder perhaps warning her to back off, but instead she did the opposite and lowered her head. Her mouth filled with a warm, salty fluid and she swallowed thickly, then again. His cock softened slowly in her mouth and she pulled back finally, licking her lips. She sat up, wiping her hand surreptitiously on the blanket.

Alexius opened his eyes, exhaling heavily. "Evelyn," he groaned.

Eve grinned, feeling pleased with herself. "Yes? Good?"

"Oh. Lovely girl. Come here."

She lay down happily at his side even as he shifted, pulling his pants back up over his hips. Naked and feeling rather sexy for both it and the pleasure she brought him, she curled up next to him, warm and comfortable. "I liked that. I can't believe you made me wait." She rested her chin on his shoulder, then kissed his cheek. "I want to do it again. I'll do it better next time. I kind of liked the way it tasted, too. Don't know why people make a big deal of that, honestly." Other than the slight ache in her jaw, which she was sure would fade with practice, it was enjoyable.

"Maker," he sighed. "You are a credit to the ego."

"Mm. Are you always that quiet though?" She kissed him, then settled her head on his chest, her arm and leg flung around him. "I was hoping you'd call out my name or something. I mean, I froze the bed to the wall."

"Something we'll need to work on for you to control," he said. "We don't need to chance the castle burning down around us every time we're together."

"A fitting romantic end to the Inquisition," she joked. "But are you? Quiet, I mean."

"I am usually," he said, somewhat apologetically.

"Hm. I don't mind," she decided. "As long as whatever sounds you make, you make only for me." She closed her eyes. "I guess we should get out of bed now. I need to find Leliana and see what happened to Maxwell." She sighed, but didn't move.

He let her lay there for a few more minutes before nudging her up and off. "The Inquisition would notice their missing leader," he said, kissing her before getting out of bed.

She stretched and watched him move to the basin to wash up before dressing. "Hm. I suppose. Gereon?"

Buttoning up his robes, he turned around, giving her a look as she sprawled naked in bed. "You paint a very enticing picture."

"You'll stay with me again tonight, right?" she hoped, sitting up. "As often as you can?" The idea of sleeping alone after last night and this morning was a gloomy one.

"If I'm able to," he agreed.

Grinning, she bounced out of bed and hugged him tightly, finally feeling the chilly air of the room as her bare feet hit the floor. "I'll meet you later for lessons. Magic lessons," she corrected.

He leaned down for a kiss, Eve yelping as he smacked her backside. "I'll be counting the hours, my love."

She sighed happily as he descended the steps, blowing her a kiss before disappearing out of sight, and started to get ready for the day.


	14. Chapter 14

Maxwell left without saying goodbye, leaving only a note that Eve told Leliana to burn, feeling less than charitable toward the noble family of House Trevelyan. Whether or not she actually disposed of the letter, it didn't matter to Eve. If there was any pertinent information in there rather than another few paragraphs telling her what a disappointment she was, she was sure Leliana would let her know. Despite the nice morning she'd had with Alexius, her ire was raised now and she collected Dorian and Solas, requesting them to meet her just outside Skyhold in an hour to continue her training.

Spite brought her to her next decision, the indignation of a family member using a templar technique against the man she loved. She was determined now to learn how to block their abilities, and as she felt it necessary to bury the hatchet once and for all, that spite brought her to Cullen's doorstep. He was, after all, a templar. Or ex-templar, but he must've retained his techniques despite no longer taking lyrium. Though she hesitated, she knocked, steeling herself for whatever he might have to say to her. After all, his refusal to help in light of her last visit with him was always a possibility.

"Come in."

She entered, watching him get to his feet when he looked up at her. "Commander."

"Inquisitor."

There was an uncomfortable air between them, and she realized that he now knew – as everyone likely did – that she was with Alexius and wasn't going to change her mind. "I wanted to thank you for your assistance with my brother last night."

He gave a gracious half-bow. "Apologies for not noting the dangers earlier. We identified his abilities but did not account for the fact that he might try to attack a member of the Inquisition."

"No harm done, and it's not like anyone could have guessed that would happen. I never would have guessed," she added, frowning. "Look, Cullen, I'm sorry."

He looked immediately uncomfortable with the change of tone and informality, and looked down, shuffling papers.

"You were looking out for me when it came to Gereon. Alexius," she corrected.

"I undermined your authority," he said carefully.

"No. I mean, you did but you had good reason to. Not that intentions are…" She sighed. "Your heart was in the right place," she finally finished. "Things have been too strained between us. It's not good."

Cullen looked up at her. "I have… tried."

Eve frowned. "I messed up, too. I'm willing to put everything behind us now. For the sake of the Inquisition and… I'd like to call you a friend. I could use as many of those as I can get. I need everyone I can get on my side and I can't do that if there's this awkward tension between us. It's just… I'm not sure there was a good way to handle any of that. And I probably chose the worst way possible to do it. So I'm sorry."

He looked at her a moment, brow furrowed, then nodded. "I am as well. I shouldn't have gone behind your back. I should have trusted you to know what you were doing. The others…" He trailed off.

"The others what?"

He tapped a gloved finger against his desk, thinking carefully of his next words. "After the disaster last night, Leliana and I spoke at length. She addressed my concerns for your safety with the magister."

Eve raised an eyebrow, a dubious look on her face. "My safety with him? Gereon would kill anyone who tried to hurt me." It made her happy to say it, even though the thought of him actually killing someone for her wasn't a pleasant one. The feeling that accompanied the hypothetical death of that person however, did make her feel good.

"Yes. His reactions at dinner were quite telling."

"I'm trying, Cullen," Eve admitted. "I really am. I know what's at stake. I know what has to be done. I'm going to do my best, but I need as many people behind me as possible to do it. And I need as much help as I can get. I'm not the Hero of Ferelden or the Champion of Kirkwall. I'm just some nobleman's daughter who got cast aside because I can do this." She let a ball of flame spring up in her hand then closed her fist around it. "I don't even know why I lived through the explosion."

"You are the Maker's chosen-"

"I'm really not. At least, I don't know. I don't feel special. Regardless," she pressed forward, not wanting to turn this into a religious debate, "I need your help."

"I am at your disposal, Inquisitor."

"Good. Will you come train with me? Solas and Dorian are waiting."

He frowned. "Train?"

"You're a templar. We're going to be fighting more templars at some point. I want to be prepared and not silenced. Without my magic, I'm entirely useless and I refuse to be a liability on the field." She knew there was little else she was good for when it came to fighting. She couldn't wield a sword or use a bow, and one good hit could knock her unconscious.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. However," he continued when she started to protest, "I will send one of my men out with you. Someone who's been trained properly and knows restraint but won't go easy."

Eve considered this, then nodded. It was likely for the best. Their fledgling friendship was still fragile and she wouldn't have wanted it broken over something as serious and necessary as her training. "All right. We're just outside the main gates. I'll wait for him."

"Inquisitor," he said, stopping her when she turned to leave. He started to say something, then stopped.

"Go ahead," she urged him, determined to let him speak his mind.

"You truly love this man?" he asked quietly.

She smiled, tight-lipped. "Yes. I'm not asking anyone to understand it. I don't feel like I need to justify it either. But I do. And we're happy."

Cullen nodded. "All right. And thank you for… for coming to see me."

Eve returned the nod and left, feeling better for the conversation, and hoped Cullen's man was as good as he was built up to be.

-

Eve spent most of next two weeks training and dealing with paperwork. To her surprise, when she talked with Josephine regarding the whispers surrounding her relationship, she found that most of the rumors were tame. In fact, Orlais seemed to take it as a particular challenge, and young women wanting to emulate her had gone in search of older, suitable men. The larger the age gap, the better. It had culminated in a sixteen year old girl from Lydes making inquiries to magistrates about posthumous marriages, claiming they could be joined together "on the astral plane." The whole thing was utterly ridiculous and frustrated her until Josephine assured her it was completely normal and in fact, a good sign for Orlais. Ferelden was much more practical, either not caring or worried what this meant for the Inquisition's support. Their fears were easily assuaged, however, with soldiers and supplies. While some noble houses from the Free Marches voiced their concerns of the Inquisition possibly becoming corrupted by this unknown Tevinter presence, Josephine pointed out that most of Thedas followed the example of Orlais, and accepted it without too much complaint.

Though her days continued to be long, they would end with Alexius. Some nights she'd have to track him down, as he'd get caught up in his research. They would retire to her quarters together, those left in the library or throne room giving them knowing looks as they passed. Eve remained pleasant as always, stopping to chat with those who wished a quick word before moving on. Other days like today, he was waiting for her in her quarters, settled on the couch, book in one hand, glass of wine in the other.

"Are you all right?" he asked as she came upstairs.

"Exhausted," she admitted, shedding her coat and boots and flopped down next to him. His arm went immediately around her and she felt better for it as she leaned against him. "Not at all prepared for the trip out tomorrow."

"I can't say I've ever been to the Western Approach. It should be exciting for you," he said encouragingly, putting aside his book.

"If you find sand and deserted wastelands exciting." She made a face. "I suppose a lot of fascinating history did take place out there. I wonder what we'll find."

"Take every precaution," Alexius warned her. "I know the magisters in charge of that area. They're ruthless. They'll stop at nothing to get what they want."

"Not so different from you then," Eve said loftily. She kissed his chin then laid down, head in his lap, stretching out on the couch. "I'm bringing the usual group. Plus Cullen promises me that one of his men is already out there. Someone called Rylen. Former templar, knows his stuff. We'll be fine."

He stroked her hair, the backs of his fingertips running softly over her locks, then her cheek and neck. "I will always worry about you unless I have you in my sights."

She grinned, hugging his leg. "I didn't get my position because I'm inept and clumsy. Even though I can be pretty clumsy. Maybe a lot sometimes. I'm getting better. I haven't set anyone on fire in ages."

"Literally, anyway," he said.

"Oh that was a good one. I like your innuendo." She laughed when he did, arching up into his touch. "I will miss you though. Maybe I can convince Leliana to let you come on the next trip." It was a long shot. And she didn't think it was Leliana who would need convincing but thinking about what Cassandra would have to say, the looks she would give, it wasn't very reassuring.

"Mm. Perhaps. But I will be excited to hear about your adventures when you get back. Mind you stay safe."

She rolled her eyes but didn't let him see. It was nice to hear the concern, after all. "While I fight demons and close rifts and go hunting for errant Grey Wardens. It's as safe as a walk in the park."

"Walks in the park can be exceedingly dangerous. Once I met a rival magister just after dawn."

She turned on her back, looking up at him. 

His hand came to rest on her stomach as he told the story, idly sipping his wine. "He didn't like a bill I had proposed and instead of countering me in the usual fashion, he opted for a duel."

Eve laughed. "What, really? They do that in Tevinter?"

"It's not a popular option," Alexius conceded. "Politics can be tricky. I was lucky he didn't send assassins after me. I expect he wanted to preserve his honor. My bill directly countered his proposal." He thought a moment. "Public works projects," he said, waving a hand. "A long time ago."

"What happened?" she asked, eager to hear the rest of the story.

"It was Minrathous. We were in one of the smaller parks near the Proving Grounds." Then, seeing her quizzical expression, explained. "A dwarven construct. Gladiatorial matches and the like. I'll take you some time. Satinalia celebrations are always entertaining."

She grinned, looking forward to it. "So what then?" She sat up, kneeling on the couch, eager.

"I thought he wouldn't show. He always had a reputation as a bit of a coward. But he did, as did a sizable crowd. It was either fight or lose the bill."

"What was so important about this project?" she wondered, leaning back against the couch, watching him intently.

"Minrathous is the largest city in Thedas. It's also likely the oldest, which means crumbling infrastructures, cracked pavements, and abandoned buildings. Have you ever heard of the broken windows theory?"

She shook her head. 

"In short, keeping up the appearance and general care of a highly urbanized area will prevent further crime." He sipped his wine, then gestured idly with it. "If you enter an area where the buildings look like they're falling apart, graffiti on the walls, windows broken, it's easier to justify breaking a few more windows. The theory spirals to larger crimes. The bill I proposed would present a cleanup in some of the worst areas of the city, and turn the buildings into low income housing for Liberati."

"Liberati?" she asked.

"You can't possibly find this interesting," he said suddenly, fixing her with a dubious look.

"Why not?" She frowned. "Because I'm young? Or because I'm a Marcher?"

"No, I daresay that the Free Marches is full of its own problems. You have better things to do than to listen to me talk about this. If not your duties as Inquisitor, then perhaps something more personal?"

Eve pushed easily into his lap, straddling his waist, and settled. "I don't. And you were telling me a story. Stop interrupting yourself and tell me about what happened. And what's a Liberati?"

He smiled at her stubbornness. "Freed slaves. And those in paid service to others who don't take residence in their employers' homes."

"Oh." Slavery was one of the things they hadn't talked about. She discussed it briefly with Dorian one of the first times she'd met him. The things he had to say about it were interesting and made sense, but Solas was vehemently against the entirety of it. Then there were slaves who ran away to join the Qun, finding life there to be better. And further there were slaves who actually chose the life and lived decent ones. The whole thing made her head hurt, and she decided that she would need to focus on it later, after Corypheus was killed and the world saved. "So your bill would've been a good thing."

"It was indeed," he said. He set his glass down in order to hold her, running his hands up and down her sides.

"It was passed?" she asked, squirming when his fingers slipped under her shirt, tickling her a bit.

"We dueled in the park, decreed by law. Now, mind you I was rather reserved back then. I didn't want to hurt him. He, however, did not have the same objections."

She frowned, feeling defensive of past-Alexius and this unknown magister. "What happened?"

"I finally remembered what I was fighting for. Not myself, but to improve the lives of my countrymen. He would have used the budget surplus for his own personal coffers. Complicated matters of accounting that are very, very dull indeed and you'll need to trust me on that," he added before she could ask. "Also I'm not entirely sure myself how it works. I was never fond of business mathematics."

She grinned at his admittance, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around his neck. "So you won?"

"I did. Put him in the hospital. His sister begged me not to kill him. Not that I was going to," he said, sounding a little offended at the idea. "It wasn't to the death, just to yield. Which he did. I'd just taken my chair and received my title. One could say it was my first important act as a magister."

"And the project was put into place and everything went well," she concluded, feeling a bubbling of pride for him.

"There were many bumps along that rocky path, unfortunately. I wish I could say it was all good," he said sadly. "But I cannot. However, the restoration was the important thing. I was pushing for it in our Circles before I joined the Venatori. Their aims seemed pure at first but then…" He sighed.

Eve kissed him, not wanting him to fall back into despair thinking about the choices he'd made with them. He'd done so many good things in his life, and that should've been all that mattered. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Let's not talk about the Venatori."

He smiled, hands already sliding down to cup her ass. "What should we talk about instead?"

She glanced over her shoulders at his hands. "That's a good start. Take me to bed, Gereon."

"Your wish is my command, my love."

She laughed as he stood, and hooked her legs around his waist. Tomorrow would come, but the night was theirs.

-

It was honestly difficult to decide whether she hated Ferelden more with its bad weather, mud and muck, or Orlais. Though to be fair the Western Approach was hardly anything like the rest of the country, even if she hated traveling through both types of terrain. Mud, she decided, was easier to walk on than sand, and much less tiresome.

They cleared out an old temple that was time-locked with an interesting spell. She noted this in her journal to talk to Alexius about it later, collecting old scraps of parchment that held formulas and theories on it. Bull muttered something about demons and weird freaky magic, but wouldn't talk to her further on the subject. Dorian agreed it was worth looking into, however, and the death of a Venatori leader called Lucanus put them all in better spirits for what would come next.

Griffon Wing Keep was cleared out with some difficulty. It seemed Corypheus had no shortage of Venatori officers, this one a spellbinder who excelled in necromancy. Despite her training, her newfound endurance and abilities, something got through the front line. A wild spell thrown by the leader, the one who jeered at her, taunting her as they approached. She saw the shimmering black mist that cut through her shield at once and remembered tripping back, rolling down the stone steps, then darkness. In the back of her mind she thought she heard Dorian shouting, but it was too faint, and soon nightmarish visions were upon her.

Her brother's face, filled with false concern. "You will never win. You may as well give up."

She tried to speak, to tell him to leave, but the words were lost on the way to her lips. He laughed, a much deeper, cruel tone and his face faded into Corypheus's. His eyes narrowed, his face twisted, skin pulling taut as he glared down at her. She remembered the pain he'd caused, tossing her around like a rag doll while his dragon breathed electric fire at her.

"You will surrender. You are out of your depth, girl. You have no hope in defeating me."

Again she wanted to dissent, to tell him he was wrong, that she could do this. But doubts plagued her mind, an effect of whatever spell had hit her. The niggling fears licked at her brain like the flames of a campfire, reaching ever closer until they burned away the confidence she'd built up over the months. Terrified that the voices were right, that Corypheus was right, she turned her thoughts to something comforting. Alexius holding her, reassuring her that he would be there, waiting.

"Your lover is dead," Corypheus declared.

"No," she managed, a whisper, then louder, a pained and desperate agonizing cry. "NO!"

He stepped aside, revealing the broken and twisted body, Alexius lying in the snow, as her visions took her back to Haven, to one of the worst days of her life. She flung herself forward, shaking him, trying to get him to respond. His face was bloodied, eyes shut, limbs limp and cold. She sobbed, heartbroken, laying over his lifeless form, gripping his robes tightly, offering up prayers the Maker for something, _anything_ to bring him back.

"Your Maker does not exist," Corypheus said, reaching down and grabbing her by the wrist, hauling her up.

"NO!" she screamed, struggling, trying to get back to Alexius. "Let me go!"

"You will not survive this. Best to give up now." 

He reached up with his other hand, clawed fingers digging into her throat as he squeezed hard. Blood flowed over her neck and she couldn't breathe. She kicked and struggled, trying to pull at his fingers, to get him to stop. Her vision was blurring, tunneling, turning to black. She couldn't die now. She had too much to do. Too much to see. And too much to live for. She tried to gasp, to pull in a breath of air that wouldn't come as her lungs burned for relief. She was going to die.

A sharp stinging slap across her cheek made her blink. The tunneling of her vision cleared and blackness gave way to light, heart racing, chest heaving as she breathed in sweet, wonderful air. She was laying on the ground, eyes wide in terror as she tried to remember where she really was. Orlais, not Haven. A stronghold in the Western Approach, not a snowy village doomed to be buried by an avalanche she created. And Dorian was there, gripping the front of her robes, holding her up, looking just as terrified as she felt.

"I'm okay," she breathed. "I think…" She shoved her sweaty hair back from her face and allowed him to pull her into a sitting position.

"Head between your knees, boss," Bull ordered, moving her to the steps so she could do so. "Gonna find some water in this shithole. Keep your eye on her."

Dorian hadn't let go of her, and she heard Solas whispering something, a quiet spell, and a blue light washed over her. She recognized the nullification magic at once, a dispelling technique. That, combined with her vice grip on Dorian's hand, and she was starting to feel a little better.

"What happened?" she asked.

"A mind horror spell," Solas explained.

"Horrible magic, really," Dorian huffed. "Dreadful thing to get caught by. Once we disposed of the others, we tried several nullifications but nothing seemed to you knock out of it. Incidentally, I do apologize for the bruise."

She touched her cheek, tender where Dorian must've hit her to knock her out of it. Overwhelmed still by what she saw, she simply flung her arms around his neck and held on tightly. He returned the embrace of course, soothing her with quietly whispered words. They sat like that for a time, Eve not wanting to tell him what she saw, but needing to all the same.

"Corypheus," she said, face buried against his shoulder. "Corypheus and he had Gereon and he was dead."

Dorian pressed a kiss to her temple. "He's safer than we are, I promise. And we'll get Corypheus."

"We've successfully dispatched two of his trusted agents," Solas agreed. "It would seem the tables are turning in our favor."

Bull returned, water skins in hand. "Went to the nearest camp. Water supplies are getting low but they're sending word to our soldiers to take this place. Shouldn't be long before they get here. You all right, boss?"

Eve nodded, sitting back a little. Solas took the water skin from Bull, tapped a few drops of a rejuvenation potion in it, cast an ice spell, and handed it to her. She drank, grateful as the cool, refreshing water hit her lips, quenching a thirst she hadn't realized she had. The potion and the dispel worked in tandem to calm her down and take away the residual aches from her fall and relax her mind. Solas excused himself to examine the rest of the keep, while Bull settled on her other side, he and Dorian keeping her company while she tried to reconcile the horrible visions in her mind.

"I should have been quicker with… with my shield or something," she said, realizing the spell had torn through it like wet paper.

"Dwelling on the 'should've-could've' won't help," Bull informed her. "Lots of things we _should've_ done. Pretty much did everything we _could've_. No reconnaissance other than, 'There are 'Vints in the keep' makes for a pretty messy run. We did all right. No one died. No one's bleeding."

"Bull," Dorian started.

"No he's right," Eve said, needing to hear it. No one except her got hurt. And if they had, the wounds were highly insignificant. They'd all been very lucky today, considering what they'd been through. "We'll stay here tonight. Send word ahead to Hawke. He'll be waiting for us." She handed the water skin to Bull and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "There's work to do. Just… I need the night."

"No one will fault you for that," Dorian assured her. "We'll make sure you get the good tent once they're all set up. The one that doesn't allow for drafts and little bugs to get inside."

She laughed at the absurd concern. This was also what she needed. "Thank you."

It wasn't too long after that Inquisition soldiers began to pour into the keep, and Eve stood to meet them. She was able to smile and shake their hands and talk with Captain Rylen about the situation without ever letting on what had just happened. And when she did take a tent that night, it was stationed far from the others, knowing the nightmares that evening would be particularly bad.


	15. Chapter 15

It ended up being both Bull and Dorian who joined her in her tent, though she missed Alexius now more than ever. Despite having the reassurances and the comfort from both men, she still slept badly and rose early, leaving them to sleep in a bit longer. Captain Rylen was at least awake and they had a quiet, fairly comfortable breakfast with quite a bit of coffee. Then, once the sun had properly risen, they left to meet Hawke and confront the magister who had taken advantage of the Grey Wardens. It was the fact that they'd walked into it willingly that infuriated Eve, fighting with ferocity against the demons and enthralled Wardens alike. Perhaps it reminded her of Alexius – a promise of something more. In his case, a cure for Felix. In the Wardens' case, a cure for the Blight finally. It was too upsetting to think about how figures of legends could have their good natures turned so easily against them.

Also, she decided that she really didn't like Livius Erimond very much.

Sending word to Skyhold meant having to wait to take Adamant Fortress, but Cole – who deigned to join them, somehow knowing he was needed – promised her they were coming with reinforcements. He didn't seem to like the idea of Adamant, and after some careful prodding she and Solas were able to get the entire story from him regarding his last visit. The thought of demons and undead horrors, abominations and a trip through the Fade did nothing to make her feel better. Cole ended up apologizing for causing her distress, but she did her best to assuage his guilt. Making a decision to scout the rest of the Approach, she took some of her men and headed east to clear out the ruins Harding mentioned some time ago.

Coracavus was full of amazing wonders, old statues, and valuable trinkets. While Eve wanted to claim all of it for the Inquisition, she made a note to have someone send word to their contact at the University of Orlais. Old journals and research papers, however, made their way surreptitiously into her pack. There were, she decided, certain perks to being Inquisitor. And Alexius could see to it that they were housed in a proper Tevinter library or hall of records once this was over. The only thing she wasn't pleased to see aside from darkspawn, were the damned giants. Bull, however, was quite happy and she couldn't begrudge him a good fight.

Their trip out east culminated in a fight at a place marked on their map as Echoback Fort. Eve was beginning to regret her decision to trek out this way while they waited for their soldiers, even if sitting in Griffon Wing Keep held little appeal. She wanted to keep busy in the days following their request, but standing amidst more dead bodies was starting to take a toll on her.

"Hey, boss, this one's still alive," Bull called out. "You want me to take care of him?"

"No!" She climbed the stairs of the fort once more, Bull moving aside so she could kneel down and remove the man's mask. He was bleeding from a wound in his side, likely a lance of electricity. Any blow from Bull would've likely crushed the light leather armor and his ribs, killing him instantly. "What's your name?"

The man's face was twisted in pain, grey eyes flicking from her to Bull and back again. "Servis," he managed through gritted teeth. "Crassius Servis."

She dug through her pack and came up with a healing potion. "Here. For the pain," she said, holding it out to him. "Go on. It's not poison."

"Why isn't it?" he asked, wary, but he took it all the same. Yanking the cork with his teeth, he took it in one swallow, then coughed, raspy and wet.

"Because I'm better than you are," she said, feeling tired and angry all at once. "I prefer to kill a man in the middle of a fight and not when he's lying in a pool of his own blood just because we missed the first time."

"I don't know," Dorian said, approaching. "You've killed quite a lot of people. And he's hardly fit for an exception. Good afternoon, Crassius."

Servis looked up, eyes meeting Dorian's. "Ah, the younger Pavus. Or is it, anymore? Last word from the capital said you were disinherited."

"Don't talk to him," Eve snapped at Servis, shoving the pointed end of her staff at his throat.

Servis held up his hands in surrender. "My mistake, Inquisitor. It is Inquisitor, isn't it? Your reputation precedes you. A formidable mage in the field of battle. The Elder One will have a time trying to kill you. I've heard he's already failed multiple times."

"Boss," Bull ground out warningly.

She looked at him, then back to Servis. "It seems both my friends would prefer it if I killed you. Tell me why I shouldn't."

"Other than your altruistic nature?" Servis ventured. "No? Very well. I am to understand that you pardoned an associate of mine. Your friend's former patron, one Gereon Alexius. You did so because he turned out to be an extremely valuable asset. _I_ can be an asset, Inquisitor."

Eve narrowed her eyes, lowering her staff only slightly. "Tell me." She ignored Bull who growled, and Dorian who shifted, crossing his arms.

Servis licked his lips nervously, sitting up a bit straighter, wincing as he held his side. "I was hired by a third party to move artifacts back to Minrathous. I have no loyalty to the Elder One. A bright, young, ambitious girl such as yourself, you would find my skills useful, wouldn't you?"

"You're a smuggler," she said flatly.

He scoffed, looking almost offended at the word. "I deal with highly antiquated artifacts and powerful magical relics. I have contacts in Tevinter that owe me large debts as well. I am no mere smuggler, Your Worship. All of that and more will be put at your disposal should you spare my life and employ me instead."

"You're willing to go against Corypheus?" It was a little unbelievable, all things considered. But then, how many false promises had Corypheus made to these Venatori? He didn't lead solely by inspiration, and compassion seemed to be a foreign concept to him unless he was using it to manipulate. Servis seemed sharp and ambitious. She looked at Dorian. "I'm not asking you to vouch for him."

"Good. Because I won't." He sighed. "He does, however, have a reputation that backs up his words though I can't say I know anyone personally who owes him these favors."

"I never went to your house, Lord Pavus," Servis said, sufficiently humbled now, or at least doing a very good impression of it. "I knew your father was too honest to accept any of my dealings."

"Enough," Eve cut him off. "We'll take you in. You'll go to Skyhold and sit in the cells until I return to make my judgment. I have to take care of your friend Erimond first."

"I wish you luck, Inquisitor," he said, then yelped a little as Bull hauled him to his feet.

Rope and magebane were found, and Servis went rather willingly with a few guards from the nearest camp. Neither Bull nor Dorian said anything to her as they began the trek back to Griffon Wing Keep. She wondered if it was because they disagreed with her or because they didn't want to upset her. Either reason was angering, but nothing more so than their silence.

"You can tell me it was a bad idea," she said, not looking back at them. "Using Corypheus's own men against him is a blow to their morale. Corypheus might want to think he's a god, but he's leading mortals. Men with ambition. Men who don't want to die."

"It's a fair point," Bull conceded.

"I suppose I agree," Dorian said. "You'll want to watch Servis. To call him a snake would be insulting the majestic beauty of serpents."

She relaxed a little, feeling awkward for having misjudged their silence, but pleased. "He'll be under guard until we return, then I'll have Leliana question him. If his efforts bring in something useful, he'll be on probation. Watched until we can trust him."

"You can't trust him," Dorian insisted. "He's not like Alexius. His loyalty falls to the highest bidder. We just happened to have the right price: his life."

When Eve judged Alexius, he hadn't cared if he lived or died. He took the gift of his life rather grudgingly, but eventually decided that living was better than the alternative. Servis wanted his life, which he exchanged for trinkets and information. A man like that was a bit of a loose cannon. But she had confidence in Leliana.

"Then we'll have to make sure we hold his loyalty through coin and favor. We'll discuss it more back at Skyhold," she said, looking back at him. "I promise."

Dorian nodded. "Are you… all right?"

The sun beating down on her neck, sweat rolling down her face, her clothing full of sand which somehow got everywhere, and on top of that not having slept very well at all, she wasn't all right. "I'll be fine."

"Which would be an acceptable answer if that's what I was asking," Dorian said, leaving Bull's side in order to step up and draw level with her. "As your friend."

"Tired," she admitted. "The hex I suffered didn't help. The potions I've been taking, the spells I've learned, it doesn't seem like it's enough. After Adamant, I'm going to need to look into something long term for this. Cassandra will have a solution." So far, while many of the techniques they'd been using had seemed to work somewhat, having someone close to her while she slept was an easier answer. Dorian and Bull, though she loved them both, were not proper substitutes for Alexius. With him, she went to sleep feeling relaxed and calm, and found that impossible to do outside of Skyhold.

"I'm sure she will," Dorian said encouragingly. "So we'll handle this mess at Adamant with our usual ruthless efficiency, then head home and double down on this research."

She smiled, knocking against him lightly, then looked back to Bull, who nodded at her. "Let's survive Adamant first," she said. "Then we'll discuss what comes next."

-

While the rush of battle was exhilarating, Eve was starting to wish for simple mundanity. Breakfast, a newspaper. Daily lessons and training. A warm bath after dinner, then sex or cuddling or both with Alexius before sleep. Anything, really, other than what this life was constantly throwing at her. Surviving the Fade night after night in her dreams was an ordeal. Walking it physically again was near impossible. And though she'd only met Stroud briefly before, condemning him to death in the Fade was the worst feeling she could ever remember having. As much as she'd wanted to know what happened at the conclave, it hardly mattered now. It didn't change anything except to further cement the fact that what happened to her was a complete accident. It could've been anyone who interrupted that ritual and picked up that orb. Logically while she knew Corypheus was to blame for all of this, she felt the guilt eating her up inside.

Which was why she left Griffon Wing Keep that night, staff in hand, and walked out to the Abyssal Reach, an impossibly deep canyon that seemed to stretch forever. She fell to her knees, face buried in her hands as the events of the day washed over her. They saved some of the Wardens, but not enough. They'd captured Livius Erimond, but Warden-Commander Clarel was dead. Corypheus's dragon survived. Adamant Fortress was littered with even more corpses, both Wardens and Inquisition solders. And Stroud was lost in the Fade, probably dead, defending _her_. Unable to keep this bottled inside any longer, feeling the rage building, she screamed, the sound swallowed up by the chasm below her. A burst of flame from her fists followed, lighting up the pitch black night.

She heard the sound of someone behind her and was too tired to argue when she felt Dorian's familiar presence at her side. He was saying something, but she couldn't focus, the anger rising once again. The injustices of the world. And she was just so tired. The pain didn't seem as sharp now, blurring at the edges. Cool hands on her face forced her to focus and she was looking up suddenly at Solas, who was speaking slowly and deliberately.

"You must focus."

"On what?" she muttered. She felt Dorian grip her arm, and a heavy weight landed on her shoulder that was Bull's hand.

"Focus," Solas said sharply. "Remember your training. Push it away."

Away. Down and away. She took a breath, the anger fading. The pain returned in full force and with a sudden horrific realization she understood what had nearly happened to her. To give into her rage and anger, to let the spirits that pressed closely to the Veil come to her. Demons wanting to feed upon her emotion. And she had almost let them. "No," she whispered. "No, no, no."

"Hush," Dorian said, pulling her against him.

"What is going on here?" she heard Cassandra's voice, and felt the panic start to rise.

"It is a hardship for anyone to go through what the Inquisitor went through today," Solas explained softly, standing. "She needs rest. Uninterrupted sleep. And our unconditional support. Eve. Can you stand?"

She nodded, and Dorian and Bull helped her to her feet. She looked at Cassandra, feeling the exhaustion deep in her bones. "I'm sorry."

Cassandra frowned. "No. I should have been more attentive. Come."

It was strange to receive affection from Cassandra, but Eve went willingly into her embrace. A memory came to her almost at once. A dark-haired woman pulling her close, hugging her tightly, whispering that it would be okay. Her mother before she left for the Circle. Before she was taken. But her mother had failed her. Cassandra wouldn't let that happen to her. She was strong, someone Eve aspired to be like. And even though Cassandra had her doubts, it didn't make her any less formidable.

"You will take a potion for sleep tonight," Cassandra said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Solas?"

"I will have one made shortly, Seeker," Solas promised. He touched Eve's shoulder briefly, then turned back toward the keep.

"Did… did anyone see?" Eve asked, releasing her hold on Cassandra to look back at Dorian and Bull.

"No," Dorian assured her.

"Dorian and I were up. Heard you leave," Bull said. "We followed you."

"Solas saw us on the way," Dorian explained. "I believe he was looking for a place to dream, and I expect-" He looked at Cassandra.

"I was on single patrol," Cassandra finished. "I saw the fire."

_Good,_ Eve thought. It was one thing to let her friends see her in such a state. It was another to let any of the Inquisition soldiers witness it. She looked down at her left hand, which was quiet now, no faint traces of the Anchor glowing in the night. "Being in the Fade physically… it was… I'm not sure anyone should have that power."

Bull grunted. He hadn't been there, working on waylaying the demons on the battlements. "Yeah, but you do. At least you're not some crazy asshole trying to rule the world."

Eve laughed at the absurdity of the thought. "Maybe. I was just thinking how nice it would be to add more shit to the ever growing pile I have to deal with."

Bull laughed, reaching out and ruffling her hair. "You'll be fine, boss."

Cassandra tutted. "You need rest. And when we get back to Skyhold, I will see to it that you have a proper break and some leisure time."

Dorian smoothed her hair, drawing his fingers carefully through it. "Leisure time that doesn't involve dodging magic attacks and templar abilities. A real break."

"Can we afford that?" Eve asked, looking at the three of them.

"I will ensure it," Cassandra said in the same decisive tone.

"Well there's no arguing that," Dorian agreed. He wrapped an arm around Eve's waist and kissed the top of her head. "Sleep now, back on the trail home tomorrow. A proper bath, some lovely clothing. Perhaps some shopping in Val Royeaux to get your mind off things for a bit. Maybe even a trip to the theatre."

"We will see." But Cassandra did look to be considering it.

Eve let Dorian and Bull help her back toward the keep, Cassandra leading the way, assuring the concerned soldiers that the Inquisitor was all right, that they were just coming off patrol together now. It was a good lie, if a bit surprising that Cassandra would tell one. Eve felt extremely grateful as she ducked into her tent, Bull and Dorian following. Solas appeared shortly after with a tonic which Eve took without argument.

"You two don't have to stay," she said once the tent flap fell. She saw them exchange a look, and covered a yawn. "Bit cramped in here anyway."

"You don't take up much space after all," Dorian assured her, stroking her hair.

"You'll get bored," she murmured, feeling warm, the effects of the potion weighing her down.

"We'll find some way to keep entertained," Bull promised. "Go to sleep, boss. We'll be here when you wake up."

Eve, eyelids too heavy to hold open anymore, limbs feeling pleasantly numb, fell into a deep, restful sleep.

-

She awoke groggy curled next to Bull, confused and sore. The potion that put her to sleep worked wonders but she knew she couldn't always depend on it. Constantly drugging herself to make it through the night wasn't a good idea. She cast around somewhat uselessly, found her pack, and winced trying to brush out her hair. Giving up halfway, she tied it in a messy knot atop her head and finally glanced at her sleeping companions. Dorian was curled up against Bull's side and she smirked, remembering how at first they seemed to not get along.

_How far we've come,_ she thought, and as quietly as she could, made her way out of the tent.

Finding a quiet corner of the keep on an out of the way stairwell, she withdrew her journal and started to write. Detailing what happened to her was important, especially since no one was likely to believe her. Sure, Dorian and Solas and Cassandra had all fallen through the rift with her, but anyone who hadn't been there would think it crazy. Blackwall and Bull provided backup for their soldiers, but she was fairly sure neither would want to hear about it, and Cole made himself scarce soon after checking to make sure she was all right. Walking in the Fade physically was something that had only been done once before in recorded human history, and the results were disastrous. She'd done it twice, and while it was taxing both times, it hadn't taken all the lyrium reserves in Tevinter and thousands of lives to do it.

Only it had, hadn't it? The first time, so many people dying. Was her walk through the Fade the result of their deaths? The memories she collected didn't provide that detail, and she wrote until her hand ached, several pages of incoherent scribblings. The ink pot was nearly empty by the time she felt she finished, her head blissfully empty. She felt a twinge in her wrist and was about to close the journal in pursuit of breakfast when a shadow fell over her. She looked up.

"Oh! Um. Good morning," she said, blushing just a bit as Hawke came into view.

"Morning." He was holding two cups of steaming coffee, one of which he offered her. "Can I sit?"

Even though they fought alongside one another and he'd been nothing but nice to her, she still found him intimidating. Regardless, she slid over on the stairs, upsetting the ink pot, sending it crashing to the ground. What was left of the ink splattered on the stone and her boot, and she swore quietly. "Sorry."

Hawke chuckled, though not unkindly, and sat next to her, handing her the mug. "You remind me of someone."

She took it and set her journal aside, kicking idly at the shards of glass, shoving them out of the way, smearing the ink even worse. "Oh?"

"Myself."

Eve choked on her coffee. "What? Oh no. I'm a mess." Then she felt the burning regret. The Champion of Kirkwall didn't need to know any of that.

"Varric doesn't write about those parts, don't worry," he assured her. "I had a rough start. Running from the Blight, working my ass off in Kirkwall to try to take care of my family." He sipped his coffee, staring down at his hand, scars across the knuckles. "Bang up job I did."

She remembered the fear demon's voice, the nightmare mocking each of them in turn. Everyone Hawke ever loved died. His entire family was gone. "None if it was your fault."

"Yes, it was," he said. "But thanks for saying it anyway. The point is you start to wonder what the point of it all is. Why not just walk away from it."

The words were familiar. She felt a little ashamed and cupped her hands around her mug to keep from fidgeting, anxious now. "You didn't."

"I had to stay. I had my friends I had to look after. And Anders." Though his tone had been fairly somber, she saw the way his lips curled into a smile behind his beard as he mentioned his lover.

"You don't talk about him a lot, do you?"

Hawke nodded. "I expect you and I have similar reasons for keeping quiet on that front. Not many would understand. Even my good friends don't seem to get it." He took a long sip, then sighed. "The point is, you find what little happiness you can in this shithole world. You cling to it. Fight tooth and nail to keep it safe. Because Maker knows it doesn't get any easier."

It wasn't exactly reassuring. Everything she'd gone through already was so overwhelming and unbelievably difficult. "How do… How?" she asked, hoping he knew what she meant.

"Friends." He shrugged. "The fact that living is better than dying. Knowing that even though no one will thank you for it, someone's got to care." He glanced up at the sky, squinting in the sunlight. "He certainly isn't doing it."

She scoffed. "That's for sure." Her faith had always been a little weak, and the entire situation soured her a little to the idea. "You… were born an apostate, weren't you?"

"Yeah. Never had the pleasure of seeing the inside of a Circle," he said, and finished his coffee before setting the mug aside.

"You were lucky. I think."

Hawke leaned back, elbows on the stairs as he stretched his legs out in front of him. "From everything I heard about it, moving around Ferelden to keep ahead of templars was preferable to the shit you Circle mages had to deal with."

"When you see Anders, can you tell him something?"

"Hm?"

She looked at him, frowning a bit. "Tell him thanks. Tell him that… without him, nothing would've changed. And even though all of this," she said, waving her mug idly at the vast desert expanse, "is kind of bullshit, it's better than where I was. Anything was better than being locked up because of my magic. I'm proud of it. And what I've done."

Hawke's beard twitched, then he actually grinned. "I'll be sure to tell him. Anything else?"

She shook her head, blushing a little as if she only just remembered who she was talking to. "Oh. Sure. If you ever wanted to take a holiday at my castle," she added with more bravado than she was feeling.

Hawke chuckled. "Sure. I'll pass the message." He stood and stretched, then held out his hand. "I'm off. But good luck with this. Varric knows how to find me if you need anything."

Eve looked up and took his hand, shaking firmly. "Thank you. For everything."

He nodded and she watched him walk off, looking down at her coffee, then the ruined ink pot. They would leave for Skyhold today, and she thought about the break Cassandra mentioned. Maybe shopping in Val Royeaux was what she needed, a quick return to normalcy away from Fade rifts and giant nightmare demons. With a private grin she wondered if Alexius would deign to come with her, and found herself looking forward to it.


	16. Chapter 16

His second glass of brandy was nearly empty when the knock at his door pulled Alexius from his research. He frowned, glancing out the window to see that it was still quite early in the day, and roughly a week before Evelyn was due back from Orlais. No one else who might have stopped by for a casual chat was even in the country at the moment. Setting his quill down, he stood and crossed to the door, expecting to see a runner with a message or a package delivery that he thought he might have asked for but had forgotten about. What he didn't expect, however, was the Inquisition's spymaster on his threshold.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Sister Nightingale?" he asked carefully, one hand on the doorknob, the other splayed against the wood panel.

"A message from the Western Approach," she said, handing him a rolled up parchment.

Alexius paused, a memory emerging from the recesses of his mind, something he'd long since buried along with the hurt that accompanied it. Templars at his door accompanied by two members of the Chantry looking stricken. He had wracked his brain to think of why they would be there, wondering what fresh nonsense accusations they would have from his rivals. It wasn't entirely uncommon after all, but without probable cause or a warrant to search his estate, nothing ever truly came of it. But this time was different, the mood somber rather than celebratory.

_"It's about your wife, ser. Lady Livia's been found dead. And your son is in the hospital. Darkspawn, they think. I'm so sorry."_

The pouring in of sympathy following that day was all just a blur. He'd sat with Felix at the hospital while he recovered the physical wounds of the darkspawn attack until he was strong enough to come home. Alexius had researched tirelessly for ways to extend his life. It was the only thing that kept him going with the knowledge that he would never again get to speak to his wife. The funeral was a distant memory but he saw it now, the pyre that took his wife's body and turned it to ash. Burning was traditional, but there was even more cause for it now, considering how she'd died. And how Alexius wished it had been assassins instead. How did you obtain revenge on darkspawn, after all? But as he took the cylindrical tube of parchment and unfurled it, it wasn't Livia's body committed to the ashes he saw, but Evelyn's. 

_Gereon,_

He breathed a sigh of relief when he recognized the familiar halting script. A certificate of death would not be written by the deceased.

_I'm sending a man called Servis to Skyhold's dungeons. He claims to know you, and that he has contacts in Tevinter. I'll have to pass judgment on him when I come home. If you could talk to him and get a feel to see if he's genuine, I'd appreciate it. I'm including this decree in my official report for Leliana. If anyone argues that you need a guard when you talk to him, tell them to shove it._

He chuckled at her eloquence, thumb brushing over the dried ink.

_Not sure how much longer we're going to have to stay out here. Waiting on reinforcements for Adamant now, and they're expecting a big battle. Erimond is a bit of an ass, though that's putting it mildly. I can't wait to ~~shove a fireball up~~ finally confront him about the Wardens._

_I have some things I collected out here that you can take a look at. You should see the ruins someday. There's this old Tevinter prison, and a fortress that was completely locked down in time. Of course we messed that up a little and had to fight a whole bunch of demons but it's okay. I'll show you the staff when we get back. ~~Maybe I could see yours again too.~~_

Alexius smiled fondly at the crossed out innuendo. Likely she remembered that her spymaster among others would have access to her letters.

_I hope you're well in Skyhold. I can't wait to see you again and tell you all about it in person. I miss you. I love you._

_Yours always,_

_Eve **lyn**_

"Any word on the assault?" Alexius asked, rolling up the parchment.

"We have sent out the requested reinforcements," Leliana said with a knowing smile. "She will be well taken care of, have no fear." 

She neglected to give any more details regarding the battle itself, but that was to be expected. They were still being careful with him, watching his correspondence, especially his letters that went to Tevinter, and never gave him more information than was strictly necessary. Alexius didn't blame them for that, and in fact it was a relief to know that the organization was operating professionally and not some slapdash group of naïve hopefuls.

"I am too old to live fearlessly, Sister."

"My apologies. Regarding the prisoner, however."

He thought about it. Crassius Servis, a rather shrewd, calculating man with no political ambitions. He amassed quite a bit of wealth in a short amount of time, including the estate and associated lands that were rumored to have almost slipped through his fingers. The will that his father penned was nowhere to be found and in fact, the elder Servis had died three days before his meeting with the lawyer that would have ratified the new inheritance. As it was, all of it fell to his son's possession. 

Alexius moved in roughly the same social circles as Servis, having met him when they were both much younger. He played a very good game of careful compliments and offended no one while discerning who would be the easiest to manipulate. Blackmail was his poison of choice, blackmail and favors, rather than assassinations and slander. Alexius personally always favored transparency and earned himself a lot of enemies for his honesty. Servis, however, had been neither enemy nor ally.

"I'll speak with him. What are you hoping to have come of it?" Knowing what the Inquisition's intentions toward Servis were would be helpful in deciding where to start with him.

"I believe the Inquisitor is hoping to use the information he may have, and of course, find a good enough reason to spare his life."

"She's already made up her mind, I expect," Alexius said, trying to gauge Leliana's reaction. She was Orlesian, and exceedingly good at hiding her thoughts. As he'd been absent for some time from high society and at any rate had preferred a classroom or laboratory to a senate floor, his skills of observation when it came to the Orlesian Grand Game had waned.

"She did. She wishes this man to live. While I will not undermine our Inquisitor's authority, I would feel better knowing it was the right decision based upon what he can give us rather than her good nature."

"I expect you did the same with my case."

Leliana smiled. "Yours was easier."

"Oh?" He wondered if he was simply that easy to read or if Leliana, like Evelyn, saw something in him that others tried not to.

"You had nothing left to lose, but more importantly nothing else to gain. And it was clear to me from early on that she was taken with you. Why shouldn't she be? You were what she needed. But most important of all, she was what you needed as well."

He instantly regretted asking, even if her words were meant to be encouraging. "Thank you," he said, because it was expected. "I'll finish things here and see Servis soon. You'll have my thoughts on that matter by no later than this evening."

She inclined her head and left, Alexius shutting the door behind her. He contemplated things for a moment, tapping the parchment against his palm, frowning. Evelyn had been looking for an anchor, something to ground her to this world, something more solid than simple friendship otherwise Dorian could have done that for her. He'd given her information, taught her from his own research and well of knowledge. She was an attentive, curious young woman who – and he would be lying to deny this – reminded him more than a bit of Livia. At first he wondered if that was why he relented, comparing the two of them unconsciously. But while Livia and Evelyn both were bubbly and easily excited, beautiful and intelligent, Livia possessed a keen, almost predatory sense that Evelyn either did not have or had not yet developed. Livia was prone to action opposed to Evelyn's more reactionary behaviors. Where Evelyn was empathetic and believed people largely to be good and honest in her naiveté, Livia was much more guarded and could make you think she adored you while quietly poisoning your drink – sometimes not always metaphorically, either. And while Livia took care of him and Felix with an unyielding ferocity of a queen guarding her castle, Evelyn evoked in him something of a white knight complex. Utterly ridiculous, of course, since he was well aware of her abilities, and to hear Dorian speak of it she was nearly at his level of talent. Yet he wanted to take her in his arms and shield her from the atrocities of the world.

He'd not been lying when he told the Seeker he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. That Evelyn would realize she wanted someone younger, someone who wasn't beholden to the Inquisition. She wasn't shallow or vain, and while others would see his age, she saw his experience. And he was, if he did say so himself, still rather handsome despite it all. The fear of losing her came from deep-seated emotions, and he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to let that go. Perhaps in time it would fade, but a niggling doubt remained. Once their obligations to the Inquisition were concluded, would she really want to stay with him? The world, as the saying went, would be her oyster. Would she be content with him after all was said and done?

That was provided, of course, that they all survived this. Definitely not where he wanted his thoughts to dwell.

He removed the thick, fur-lined coat Evelyn commissioned for him from the hook on the wall and pulled it on. While interrogating prisoners wasn't on the list of things he ever thought he'd be doing for the Inquisition, he knew he was in the best position to speak to Servis and obtain his motivations. Preparing himself for the inevitable verbal maze of conversation his former colleague no doubt had prepared, he left his room and took a roundabout way to the dungeons. Not that there were many glares sent his way anymore, but the less he was seen, the less cause there would be for Evelyn's followers to grow bitter toward her choice in lover.

The guards at the foot of the dungeon stairs weren't surprised to see him, one politely addressing him using his former title. Alexius nodded cordially, not bothering to correct him. While it frustrated him to be reminded of what he'd lost, being so literal in such a precarious position would do nothing other than make these men resent him. He would get enough of that from those who believed he was using Evelyn, or had her in some type of thrall, and he was loath to add fuel to that fire.

"Well. I'll be damned," Servis said, looking up as he approached. He stood, leaning against the bars, a lazy sort of smirk touching his lips. "Gereon Alexius. I heard the rumors of course that you'd turned traitor, but to see it with my own eyes. You're looking well. I assume they're feeding you better than what us lowly prisoners receive."

"Servis." Alexius stopped in front of his cell, hands tucked behind his back and surveyed him. He looked good for a man incarcerated, but then Servis always did enjoy having the finer things. His robes were rather clean, made of thick samite and cotton, white and gold with silver trim befitting his house. "How was the journey?"

"Orlais will only ever be worth touring as a guest of the Inquisition. I fear all future forays into the country will be absolutely ruined now."

Alexius just managed to keep from rolling his eyes. Of course the layer of sarcasm would be impossibly thick. "Indeed. And your health?"

"Is this what they have you doing for their organization?" Servis asked, hands folded against his thigh as he surveyed him. "Interrogating prisoners? Seems an awful waste of your talents."

"I'm surprised you have even the most remote appreciation for my talents."

The grin that spread over Servis's face was slow and knowing. "Not as much appreciation as the Inquisitor herself has, I hear."

It wasn't the implication, but the perceived slight on Evelyn that made him flinch. Though it was near imperceptible, Servis jumped on it instantly.

"Oho!" he laughed, pushing off the bars and walked the few feet into his cell, turning his back on Alexius. The laughter faded into a quiet chuckle and he started to applaud. "Well done, Gereon. Well done indeed."

Alexius pursed his lips and waited until Servis's mirth faded before speaking. "I trust that means you're in no need of medical attention. So let's move on to the reason I was sent-"

"How did you do it?" Servis asked, face pressed to the bars, leering. "She's quite pretty. Shame you got there first. I wouldn't have minded taking a turn. Do you share?"

Though he was no longer a headstrong apprentice, prone to leaping into conflicts, the desire to set Servis ablaze was prominent. Instead, he took a moment to collect himself, then nodded once before turning to leave.

"Oh do stay. I'll behave. I'm sure you have need to interrogate me at any rate," Servis said, sighing. "Honestly, this place is so dreary, you can't begrudge me _some_ fun."

"Can't I?" Alexius asked, turning back.

Servis was examining his fingernails in a rather nonchalant way. "You were a prisoner once. You tell me." He looked up at him, pointing a finger rather accusatorially. "You're not a manipulator, Gereon." He rested his elbows on the iron crossbar, arms dangling through the cell bars. "You… have feelings for this girl?"

Alexius cleared his throat. "You still have your old Carta contacts, I take it?"

"Of course I do. Among others," he confirmed. "I didn't sever ties like you did when I left. Our assignments were vastly different anyhow. I jumped at the chance when I knew ancient ruins would be involved. But you didn't answer _my_ question. Your silence speaks more than your words, Gereon." He sighed, smiling idly. "Sincerely, though. Were it anyone else I would be congratulating them on their subterfuge. I should have thought of that – seduce the enemy. You sly dog. How did it happen?"

Servis was hardly what he would call a friend, and definitely not someone he wanted to share the intimate details of his life with. However, if he wanted to suss out his intentions, he would need to give a little to get a little. "I was tutoring her in magical research and technique."

"I'll bet." Servis's tone was heavy with innuendo. "And she fell for your 'technique' did she?"

Alexius cleared his throat. "She chose to gift me with her attentions and place her trust in me. I, in return, will respect her privacy. You don't need any more details than that."

Servis's eyes widen a little. "Maker's breath, man. Are you in love with her?" The teasing tone had gone, in its place an earnest curiosity.

"Yes." The admittance came more easily than Alexius thought it would have. He thought about their last farewell, how tightly she'd hugged him and the scent of her hair as he held her. The memory must've caused him to smile, because Servis was making gagging sounds.

"Ugh. Stop. I think I'm going to vomit."

"I suspect we can move on then."

"Please." Servis sighed, rubbing his hands over his face before steepling his fingers against his lips. He looked at Alexius in earnest. "If you vouch for me in this, I will make it worth your while. You know I can."

Alexius held up a hand. "Of that I've no doubt. Tell me what you have."

"The locations of several caches out of western Orlais. A sandy pit rife with dwarven ruins. I've had Silvius move them, operating outside Venatori control."

Silvius, Alexius knew, was Servis's house slave. The elf practically _ran_ his house, to hear the rumors. Ambitious, they said, for an Antivan whore. "And you trust that they're still there?"

"It's not as if spiders and varghests enjoy the taste of metal trinkets and marble statues," Servis said with a snort. "If you can convince the Inquisition to let me out there, I can show them exactly where they are."

"And you cannot mark them on a map because…?"

"Have you been to the Hissing Wastes?" He shook his head. "No, no, no. I will be content go with a guard. Maybe the Inquisitor will deign to join me. You needn't worry, Gereon. I will take _very_ good care of her."

Alexius frowned at the leer and waved his hand. Servis was lifted easily into the air and dropped hard to the stone. A petty move, but he was getting weary of the lewd implications and cavalier attitude. Of course, it only served to prove just how much he did care about Evelyn, and Servis, laughing as he got to his feet, knew it now.

_Let him have his victory,_ Alexius thought.

"I will inform Sister Nightingale of your cooperation," Alexius said. "And once the Inquisitor returns to render judgment, we'll see about the rest of it. Enjoy the hospitality."

"Gereon-"

Alexius turned on his heel and strode out. Servis was a reminder to him of what he'd left behind in the Imperium. Greedy magisters clawing for wealth and power while the country crumbled around their heads. Servis was no different from the rest, even if he presented himself in a different way. Still, if he could be useful to the Inquisition, anything to pull apart the Venatori and bring down Corypheus would be welcome, regardless of intentions. He spared a moment to lament the political party that at first had seemed so promising, pausing at the top of the steps of the dungeon to recall that fateful decision he'd made both for the sake of his homeland and for his son's life. But only a moment. Too long and he would fall to grief once again. To be waylaid now by the overwhelming sorrow thinking about Felix and Livia and all that he lost would be folly.

"Ever onward," he muttered as he left the dungeons and crossed the courtyard once more.

If there was one thing he did miss about Tevinter aside from all the rest was how warm it was during the season. Logically he knew that the Frostbacks weren't indicative of the climate of the south, but he missed the dry, balmy weather and the summer storms. He thought about his apartments in Minrathous where he spent most of his time with his family. The summer home in the countryside was rarely used once he accepted his professorship in the Minrathous Circle. But now he thought he would enjoy spending time there among the sprawling vineyards. Of course he would show Evelyn the capital – one did not visit Tevinter without seeing Minrathous. Perhaps a tour of the country before retirement to the countryside. Would she be content with it, though?

Further things to ponder, he thought.

He climbed the stairs to the rookery, wincing as the cawing of the crows filled his senses. They were necessary, but their placement so close to the library seemed an anathema. Luckily once his door was shut, both the sound and the smell were locked away. While Evelyn would have him make use of her quarters while she was away, he felt it inappropriate, as if he was somehow taking advantage of her. Best not add more to the rumors that he was, in fact, manipulating her to get what he wanted. Truly if they'd known how long he'd held off, how he was _still_ holding off, they wouldn't get to whisper behind their hands. Evelyn was eager but Alexius was determined to go as slowly as possible, not wanting her to regret rushing into it. But he was also tentative for his own sake, wanting to make sure that he could allow himself this happiness before taking it.

Leliana looked up from her papers as he approached. "That was fast. I wasn't expecting you until much later." She smiled. "Would you like to sit?"

"Thank you, I don't have much to report," he said cordially. While he appreciated her pleasantness, there were reasons she attained the position she was in. It was likely best he didn't linger. "Servis states his ability to attain several caches of use to the Inquisition in the Hissing Wastes. His household slave is looking over them, and I'm aware of the elf's usefulness. The items will be there. Servis insists on going himself, likely to squirrel away what he can before the Inquisition can get to the better pieces. And knowing Evelyn – excuse me, the Inquisitor, she will likely want to travel out personally."

The smile became rather knowing. "I will speak with Seeker Pentaghast about allowing you to accompany the Inquisitor along with Servis and the usual group she would take with her. Do you recommend anything else?"

"Someone to watch Servis very closely on the trek. Someone inconspicuous," Alexius added. While they would all be watching him, Servis would be expecting it. "I don't believe he'd be as stupid as to attempt to murder a member of the Inquisition, but things tend to go missing when he's around."

"Understood. Was there anything else?" she asked. "Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes, thank you." Her people kept him well stocked, taking a list of what he needed for his research. At first, he had to justify each item that wasn't horribly mundane. The more he showed, the less stringent they were. While he was fairly sure he was still watched, the idea of doing something to sabotage the Inquisition was repugnant, if only because he wished to see Evelyn succeed.

"I will let you know if any further word comes in from the Western Approach."

He returned the smile she gave albeit a bit more reservedly and retreated down the stairs back to his room, locking the door behind himself. Thinking he would start on something new to get his mind off things, he started toward the stairs but stopped suddenly, a flash of color poking out from under the bed catching his eye. He bent and pulled out a dark green scarf, the memory accompanying the rather innocuous article vivid as the day it was formed.

Evelyn entered his room, looking windswept, having just come fresh from training with the others. For some reason, seeing her in the disheveled state, hair falling out of its braid, cheeks pink, eyes wide and bright, it evoked a need inside him. He kissed her breathless and she wasted no time in helping him to remove her scarf and coat. They made it to the bed, a rather enthusiastic round of kissing followed by a pleasant exchange of mutual pleasure. She begged again for more, but Alexius still made her scream his name despite not giving in just yet. The scarf, he realized, must've gotten pushed under the bed with their eagerness to fall into it.

He pressed the fabric to his lips, unable to keep from smiling. Servis's words filtered into his mind. _"Maker's breath, man. Are you in love with her?"_ Hanging the scarf and his coat on the hook near the door, he finally descended the steps to his laboratory, lighting the fire with a casual wave of his hand, and set to work.


	17. Chapter 17

The water was as hot as Eve could stand it without burning herself. Face flushed, steam rising from the milky surface, it was exactly what she needed. Of course, having Alexius there, massaging her shoulders, was better than any of it. They stopped infrequently on the way back to Skyhold, Eve not wanting to sleep for long just in case her nightmares returned. Cassandra would work with her later, strict training that would help her clear her mind and help block against unwanted attacks. With that promise in mind, she immediately sought out Alexius upon return and after a very nice welcome home, pulled him up to her room where she talked for a long time. While she hadn't meant to worry him, the entire story spilled forth, and she found herself in his arms, clutching his robes. After which, he drew a bath and helped to calm her down.

"I still feel stupid."

"You were under a tremendous amount of stress," he said quietly. He was sitting behind the tub, sleeves rolled up, kneading the tension from her muscles. A careful application of magic helped to soothe away the knots. "I'm simply glad that nothing happened to you."

"Could've. Cassandra was disappointed." The water sloshed a little as she drew the washcloth over her skin.

"I cannot say I know the Seeker well enough to correct the assumption. But dwelling on what might have happened does nothing except cause more grief. You've done more than your fair share, more than what's expected of you. And to walk the Fade again…" He tried not to sound envious and made a note to speak with Dorian later. He would not bother Evelyn to recount all the details, not when it caused her such distress, but Dorian would likely be breathless with excitement. "What of your leisure time?" he asked, changing the topic abruptly.

"Mandatory relaxation," she sighed. "I can't say I mind it though. We don't really have a next step. Some loose ends to tie up here and then a bit of training with Cassandra so I don't end up relying on sleeping potions." She took one of his hands and pulled it to her lips, kissing his palm. "Did you speak to Servis?" She paused. "Erimond is in the cells as well. I have half a mind to…"

Alexius pulled his chair around to the side of the tub, tilted her chin up, and kissed her gently. A wet hand cupped his cheek and she sat up a little straighter, shivering in the cool air above the water. But it had the intended effect, calming her down.

"I did speak to Servis," he said, and retrieved a towel for her.

Eve stepped out of the tub, welcoming his doting as he dried her off. "The more people I meet from your country, the more I realize how exceptional you are." She wrapped the towel around herself and rooted around her dresser for something suitable to wear. "What did Servis have to say? He's kind of oily, isn't he?"

"That's one way of putting it," Alexius agreed. He embraced her from behind, brushing her damp hair off her shoulder and kissed gently.

She watched him in the mirror, tilting her head, offering more of her bare skin for him to kiss. "I'm sorry I had to ask you to do that."

"It was no hardship," he assured her, running the backs of his fingertips down her arm. "Your spymaster is organizing a trip out to the Hissing Wastes where Servis will give the locations of some equipment and other artifacts. Likely very expensive, knowing his tastes."

"Another trip to the endless desert." She tried not to sound bitter. "We're getting close to finding out where Corypheus is, I think. That damned dragon… Sorry."

"Best not to dwell at the moment. Your task is not in finding him, but in defeating him. And it will take more than just you to do it all." 

He took her hands, pulling them away from the towel and pressed her palms flat against the top of the dresser. The haphazard knot came loose and Eve tried to pull away to catch it, but he held firm. She laughed lightly, keeping her hands still while he slowly drew his fingers up her arms, then parted the towel further to reveal her breasts. In the mirror, she smiled when his eyes met hers.

"I'm going to accompany you to the Wastes," he informed her, and kissed her cheek.

Eve nodded. "I'd like that." She felt his fingers on her back, warm and soft, pulling the towel down further. His other hand brushed the underside of her breasts before cupping and squeezing gently. She smiled. "I missed you too."

"As proud as I am of you for what you're doing," he said nuzzling her neck, "I worry every day."

"I'll be fine."

"Everyone believes they're indestructible until they realize they aren't," he said quietly.

She saw the sadness in his expression and turned, letting the towel fall to the floor in a quiet whisper. "I worry about you too."

"While I'm here? Laboratories can be dangerous, but not in the ways you're thinking."

His hands were on her again, holding her lightly at the waist and she shivered, slightly cold without her towel. He bent to kiss her shoulder once again, lips trailing lower to her right breast, then her left, and she tried to concentrate on what she wanted to say, rather than what he was doing.

"You miss your home," she said softly, resting a hand on the back of his head as his tongue flicked against her nipple. "You'll see it again. I promise. We'll go together."

"I was hoping," he admitted, sinking to his knees. The rug, while soft, was hardly a cushion for the hard floor. But the way her stomach hitched as he pressed a kiss to it made any future soreness worth it. He pressed his cheek to her skin, hands on her hips, and her fingers played idly with his hair. "I love you, Evelyn."

She let out a shuddering breath, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Though she said it to him many times, he seemed almost wary of the words. The waiting was worth it to hear him say it now, with such quiet reverence. So many people flocked to the Inquisition wanting to see her, speak to her, to touch her hand. They believed she was the second coming of Andraste, a figure larger than life. He saw beyond that, a person with all her flaws and abilities.

"I love you, too."

He looked up at her and she pulled him to his feet, wrapping her arms around his neck to tug him down for a kiss. Naked, pressed against him, feeling lightheaded with his declaration, she wanted him. Maybe it _was_ a fairy story, but it hardly mattered. He could be her knight in shining armor if he wished, so long as he knew how much she needed him. She pulled him toward the bed and he went willingly.

"Evelyn."

"I have an entire morning to myself," she said, sitting down, scooting back to lay against the pile of pillows. "And you have no pressing business. I don't want to talk about the Inquisition or Corypheus or the Hissing Wastes. Do you?"

"No," he admitted, watching as she ran her hands over her breasts and stomach, one slipping between her legs. He watched her eyes close, her hips lifting as she touched herself, brushing her fingers against the dark thatch of curls.

Her eyes opened, heavily lidded, looking at him and smiled. "What are you waiting for?"

What indeed, he thought as his cock twitched interestedly at the sight laid out before him. The fears he had fled to a far corner of his mind. Regardless of what would happen, this was what was important now. He undid the fancy buckles and ties to his robes, tossing them aside, his shirt following. She smiled, pleased with her victory and he couldn't help but chuckle as he sat on the bed, leaning over to kiss her. Ever responsive to his touch, the subtle influx of magical energy forced a moan from her throat, and she clung to his arms. She was soft under his fingertips, her skin smooth and still slightly damp from the bath.

"Gereon," she whispered when the kiss ended.

"If it's too much," he said quietly, "tell me."

She nodded, her earlier bravado gone, a silent understanding between them. He shifted on the bed, kneeling over her, and gently brushed her hair off her forehead before kissing it.

"Cara mia. You're so beautiful."

Eve closed her eyes, letting herself feel his hands on her, the touch that always set her alight. For all her protestations, her insistence that they move on, she felt the fluttering of nerves now. He trailed kisses carefully between her breasts, down her midline, stopping at her stomach which quivered in anticipation. Almost unconscious she spread her legs and looked down, fingers furling in the sheets, watching as he nuzzled the inside of her thigh.

"Oh," she whispered, feeling the warmth of his tongue against her. Her back arched as he pleasured her with skilled fingers and mouth. Despite the nervousness she felt, she wanted him. "Gereon, please," she panted, reaching down for him.

He chuckled. "Very well. I think we've both been patient enough."

She leaned up on her elbows to watch him remove the rest of his clothing, trousers sliding off his hips, and fell back to the bed when he leaned over her once more.

"I love you," he said, a small smile touching his lips before he kissed her.

Eve gasped, knees bent as he slowly guided his cock against her. She felt its pressure, slightly painful, and relaxed when he kissed her again, reassuring. He swallowed the moan that escaped her throat, the whimper to follow, and she broke off.

"Maker's breath," she panted, eyes wide.

"All right?" he asked.

She nodded. "More."

He pressed forward and her legs wrapped around his waist, encouraging him. Her hips lifted off the bed and soon, he was inside. She reached up, touching the corner of his lips, then cupped his cheek.

"I love you."

He smiled, his eyes bright as he looked at her. He took her hand, kissed it, then her lips. "I love you, too. I'm going to take care of you, Evelyn," he promised, and continued when she nodded. "We'll leave here after this is finished."

She gasped when he thrust, the friction of his cock inside her different from anything she'd ever felt, better than she could've imagined. "Yes."

"I'll show you Tevinter," he promised. "The museums. The parks. The market squares."

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, legs aching slightly as she clung to him. He hooked an arm around her back and pulled her up into a sitting position in his lap. For one brief second she was confused, then felt a wave of pleasure through her nerves, starting from her groin. His hands were on her hips, encouraging her to move, and she did, using his shoulders as leverage.

"Gereon, it's…"

He laughed, a bit of arrogance to the tone. "It only gets better."

Warm, magical energy emanated from his hands which cupped her ass, kneading, and his lips were on her neck and chest and Eve forgot everything else. She thrust down, grinding against him, trying to find that spot once more, clenching tightly around him. He was laughing quietly, interrupted only by his own soft moans. She gripped his shoulders, hugging tightly, movements erratic and needy. She tried to speak, words getting lost as she thrust down against him. She wanted to tell him how it felt, how _good_ it was to finally be with him in such a way, to share this with him. Instead of words, whimpering, and she buried her face in his neck, overcome with both the physical pleasure and emotional intimacy.

He whispered soft encouragements to her, endearments in Tevene, declarations of love as she came, clutching his arms. She felt the mattress once more beneath her, soft and welcoming. Everything was a bit hazy as he thrust inside her. She felt him lean down, peppering kisses over her slightly sweaty forehead. Slightly cold in the afterglow, she shivered, and was unwilling to let him go.

"Evelyn."

She opened her eyes. He hovered above her, smiling faintly. She returned it and pulled him down for a deep, reaffirming kiss. "I love you," she whispered when they parted.

Alexius smiled, pulling out carefully and coming to rest atop her before shifting to his side. He rolled to his back and she immediately curled up against him, leg and arm flung over him. He held her loosely, fingers playing idly with a lock of her hair.

"It was really good," she said, though felt a little silly in the inadequacy of the compliment. "I mean… _really_ good."

He laughed, a short breathless chuckle. "High praise indeed from the lady Inquisitor."

She scoffed, then frowned. "And… was I good? I didn't… I sort of got carried away there."

"You were marvelous," he assured her.

"Better next time," she promised.

"And many times after that, I hope."

She bit her tongue, wanting to ask him about his past experiences. If she really was good, if he enjoyed it. She had nothing to compare it to, not that she wanted to anyway.

"What is it?" he asked quietly, drawing his knuckles over her cheek. "Do you regret-"

"No," she said at once. "Just stupid thoughts."

He hugged her close. "Tell me."

"You're the only person I've ever been with. I was thinking about you and… your experience. And I just want to make sure that I don't disappoint you." The fears were likely silly. She couldn't imagine him caring much if she wasn't as good as his past lovers. With his nature, he was more prone to patiently teaching her what she should do differently.

"Mm." He sighed. "You are the second woman I've ever made love to."

She leaned up on her elbows, a look of disbelief on her face. "Really?"

He nodded. "Truly. Livia was my research partner in the Circle. I fell in love very quickly and asked her father for permission to marry her."

Eve wrinkled her nose. "Is that how things are done in Tevinter? Are you going to have to talk to _my_ father?" She realized a second after she said it what the question was implying when Alexius raised an eyebrow. "Um. Hypothetically. If marriage were, uh…"

"I daresay the Inquisitor gives herself permission to marry whomever she wishes, regardless of what her family thinks," he said lightly. "Perhaps a discussion for a later time."

She nodded quickly. "So you married Livia and were never with anyone before her or after?"

Alexius sighed softly, though it was a quiet contemplative sound. "Other than you, of course, no. I'm afraid I was too wrapped up in my grief to even think of it. Comparing another woman to her…"

Eve drew her lower lip in, worrying it between her teeth. Alexius pulled her close and kissed her almost forcefully. The feeling lingered, that strange niggling jealousy that had no right to be there. To hear Alexius speak of his wife, she'd been an amazing person. Of course he would miss her. But how would she ever measure up to someone like that?

"You are beautiful," Alexius whispered once the kiss ended. "And I love you. Try not to dwell on it."

She sat up and pulled her knees up to her chest, wincing at little at the soreness between her legs, the slightly uncomfortable wetness still there. "Would you ever want to sleep with someone else?"

He frowned, sitting up next to her. "Where are these questions coming from?"

She couldn't say, a self-conscious doubt creeping over her. Shrugging, she leaned against him. "I just wonder if you wouldn't want someone more experienced. Or less…" She looked at her left hand and sighed.

Alexius kissed the top of her head, arm tightly around her. "No. I can't say that I'm not surprised that you've decided to be with an old man-" He laughed at her glare, holding up a hand. "You must allow me that one self-doubt. I haven't many others, after all."

"I'm not going anywhere," she said darkly. "And I'm not going to leave you for someone younger. Who would I go for, anyway? Don't answer that." Feeling better, she reached up and pulled him close for a kiss, then got out of bed, stiff and sore, and shot him a look when he laughed lightly. "Yes, walking funny. Will have to get used to that, I suppose." She surveyed the bath, the water cool now, but still fresh. "Join me?" She heated the water with a gentle inferno spell, grinning when he followed her, a predatory sort of look in his eye.

-

After the calm of the morning, the afternoon brought with it a storm, both literal and metaphorical. Lightning snaked across the darkened sky and with a crack of thunder, sleet and hail began pelting the walls of Skyhold. Luckily their artificers were worth their salt which meant the stone held under the intense weather. Eve sat on the Skyhold throne, chin resting on her fist as she stared blankly across the room. Judging Servis had been easy. Very few in Skyhold had heard his name, and those who had any personal grudges with him were out in the Western Approach. Not that she thought Captain Rylen and his men would have had a problem with the judgment she brought down upon the magister. Most saw the opportunity in someone with connections willing to help out the Inquisition in exchange for their life. Of course they called him 'coward' but to someone like Servis, that didn't matter. 

But Erimond's judgment had been near impossible. She didn't even have to close her eyes to remember the nightmare that was Adamant. Swarms of demons, the broken and burnt bodies of Wardens and her men alike. Blood and body parts. She ran a hand over her face and sat up a bit straighter. The options were few for a man like Erimond. Many wouldn't see the folly of the Grey Wardens. She'd spoken to Blackwall who insisted that they were only trying to do what was necessary to stop the Blights and were manipulated. Solas on the other hand, did not agree that their methods were just. That no one should be given carte-blanche, and that she should understand. In the end, she sent Erimond back to the dungeons and privately gave Josephine the order to make sure he was warm and well-fed. A letter to Tevinter would hopefully take care of the rest. They could judge their countryman.

But there was no respite from the storm. She heard many whispers that she was soft due to her relationship with Alexius. Never mind the fact that she'd never sentenced a single person to execution, no matter their crime. Not even Mayor Dedrick who, if she had to be honest with herself, deserved it above all others who were brought to her for judgment. There simply was no good answer when it came to Erimond. Neither Alexius nor Servis had followed Corypheus in hopes to become gods, even if they wished the best for their country. She couldn't punish patriotism, even if their choices were questionable. Servis was more interested in personal gain, tangible monetary compensation for his troubles. Alexius just wanted his son to live. Erimond, however, truly thought Coyrpheus had the right of it. And while Clarel had made some terrible, reprehensible decisions, had she said no, the outcome of everything might have been as different as night and day. If Erimond had forced the choice and captured the Wardens, and the Wardens made their decisions under duress and not willingly…

She sighed heavily. Erimond had been taken away some time ago and the plan had been to travel to the Wastes shortly after. Bull would be accompanying her along with Cole. Cassandra was less than thrilled with the idea of Alexius going as well, but there was no real question anymore as to where his loyalties lay. Not with the Inquisition, but to Eve herself. And he knew Servis better than anyone else there. Bull wouldn't let any harm come to her, and Cole would know if anything was amiss. She invited Solas and Dorian as well, but Solas declined, and Eve thought it made sense considering she'd be traveling with two Tevinter magisters. Dorian seemed disinclined to go with for exactly the same reasons. He wasn't entirely comfortable with Servis, and told her that Alexius would be more than enough to take good care of her.

It was disappointing. But nothing was more disappointing than the storm outside keeping them _inside_. She was feeling restless and wanted to do something other than sitting around. The tavern would be packed full, full of singing and drinking and the cheerfulness did not fit her current mood. Alexius invited her to his room earlier, but she'd declined – something she was regretting now. Cassandra would be seeing to the templars who had stopped taking lyrium. Dorian was likely in the tavern and Solas had been curiously absent for hours. Sighing, she pushed herself to her feet and beat the familiar path to Alexius's rooms. Maybe he would welcome the company, despite being busy with his newest research.

The door was unlocked and unwarded, but she knocked all the same before entering. The faint sound of music filtered up from below, just audible over the crash of thunder outside. She stepped in, locked the door, and headed down the stairs. Alexius was working, shirtsleeves rolled up, ingredients strewn along the tables. He held a long metal instrument in one hand, a block of obsidian in the other, and he was humming, as he usually did, while he worked. The music was quite pretty, classical strings, and originated from a small box on the table.

"Can I help?" she asked, stopping halfway down the stairs.

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at her. "I was hoping you would change your mind."

"Anything beats sitting around doing nothing," she admitted, leaning against the railing.

He laughed. "Oh, I am quite flattered for that comparison. In fact I think that my former students would vouch for that – Professor Alexius's classes: better than doing nothing."

Despite her mood, she grinned. His mirth was infectious. "What are you working on, then?" She hopped the last few steps and rounded the bannister, crossing the room to look.

"When you received that invitation to the Black Emporium a few weeks ago, I had it in mind to procure a few of the things the Antiquarian collected. Naturally he rebuffed my requests, stating he would only speak to those with a formal invitation. But he did supply me with the basic outlines of some of the more curious artifacts. One of which was an amulet to increase one's magical abilities."

"But you've already done that," she said, reaching up to touch the necklace he'd first given her.

"I'm looking into a permanent augmentation, rather than a simple potion or trinket," he said excitedly.

"Er. Permanent?" she asked, a little wary. "That sounds dangerous."

"Most magical research is."

"Are you putting yourself in danger?" Eve frowned. She didn't like the sound of this. Jewelry was one thing. A potion to enhance your abilities for a few hours or even a day was another. But permanent augmentation of magical ability sounded ominous.

"No," he answered easily and truthfully, which hardly helped her to relax. "Don't look so worried." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I assure you, the assignments you take on are much more dangerous than what I'm doing here."

She leaned against the table, arms crossed. "It still sounds bad."

"Oh?" He looked at her quizzically. One hand flicked to the music box, silencing it. "Tell me: what are your objections to improvement?"

Eve frowned. She didn't think his words were meant to be challenging, but the undertone was apparent to her. "Don't talk to me like I'm stupid."

Alexius pursed his lips. "My apologies. That was certainly not my intention. Simply that I'm used to teaching, and that means challenging detractors. My question is in earnest, and not meant to infer anything negative regarding your intelligence."

She looked away, sighing. "I don't have any good objections. It just sounds like a bad idea. Permanently altering yourself. Like… asking a demon for help and becoming an abomination."

"Evelyn, look at me."

She didn't want to, but reluctantly she did, frowning at his concern. "What?"

"If you're that concerned about it, I will of course let the matter drop. None of my research thus far has put anyone in danger, and this certainly will not either."

"How will you test it? On yourself?"

"That's the general idea," he said lightly. "Even if I could find a willing volunteer, it is not in my nature to test these magicks on others. Animals, of course, are the favored test subjects but one can only get so far with mice and nugs. I will ensure it's not poisonous, then do advanced testing on corpses before moving onto myself. You… are looking rather angry."

She wasn't angry, just extremely uncomfortable with the idea. When they'd worked together in the past it was always to improve her casting abilities and techniques, or to mix restorative draughts. This was edging into a type of magic she wasn't completely comfortable with, and had little understanding of. "How does it work? Or how will it work once it's done?"

"Injected directly into the blood stream rather than ingested orally, it will affect the heart and brain and touch the user's mana pool. This particular strain I'm working on should permanently increase that well a minimum of tenfold."

"Wouldn't you also achieve the same effect by just… practicing your magic every day? Or taking lyrium?"

Alexius nodded. "True, but we've seen the adverse effects of lyrium on both mage and mundane. And practicing takes time. Like a soldier going through his daily exercises, building muscle can take weeks. Months. With one injection, the mage's mana pool will become a much deeper well."

"It still sounds dangerous," she countered, frowning.

He took her gently in his arms and kissed the top of her head. "And it very well may be, but discovery is built on the foundations of trial and error. I will refrain from testing this until we return from the Wastes, just in case."

"'Just in case'?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Yes." He kissed her softly, a careful brush of his lips against hers. "It may leave me weak for a day or two. I'll not be a liability."

"I still don't like the idea of it. Promise me you won't test it unless I'm there." When he hesitated, she gripped the front of his shirt, imploring. "Gereon."

"I promise. Now. Perhaps we should move to something less… taxing. Potions for the trip, which I assume will begin tomorrow?"

Feeling slightly better though not completely satisfied, Eve nodded and set to helping him prepare the ingredients.


	18. Chapter 18

Servis was, to say the least, one of the strangest men that Eve had ever met. They traveled out of Skyhold, the trek much faster once they left the Frostbacks behind, and he was in an almost giddy, definitely cheerful mood. Not that Eve minded. Bull, however, was more than wary enough for the lot of them, and the group of Inquisition soldiers that accompanied them were unwilling to let Servis out of their sights even for an instant. Idle conversation was made, a description of the equipment they would find out there that matched that of the list Leliana obtained when she interrogated Servis. 

While Eve wasn't happy to be returning to the desert, the Hissing Wastes had a different sort of feel than the Western Approach. Or maybe it was simply because Alexius was with her this time. Their last conversation regarding magical theory had left her somewhat frustrated, the idea of permanent magical augmentation still fresh in her mind. She thought perhaps that she was just being overly cautious, that Alexius knew what he was doing of course and it was silly to worry. But if something went wrong and he ended up hurting himself, she wasn't sure how she could handle that. He'd become a staple in her life, someone she needed. Unconsciously as they walked the dwindling path down the rocky slope to their camp, her hand found his. 

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She frowned, not sure if she was. "Just thinking."

"Ah, the Inquisition's hospitality remains ever bounteous even out in this sandy pit," Servis declared as they entered the camp.

Eve squeezed Alexius's hand and approached Scout Harding, receiving a somewhat somber report of the area. She looked out over the vast desert, one of Thedas's moons large and bright in the inky blue sky. It cast an eerie glow over the dunes and unsettled her greatly. Despite it still being somewhat early in the evening, it felt much, much later.

"What do you think, boss?" Bull asked. "Start out now or wait 'til morning?"

She looked to Servis. "Do we have time to reach the first cache tonight?"

"That depends on how fast Your Worship walks," he answered easily, sitting down on a rickety chair. It creaked under his weight and he stood at once, frowning lightly. "Of course we can always stay and enjoy the accommodations your lovely organization has for us here."

She ignored the slight on the Inquisition's supplies. This far out, even if the Venatori presence was thick, they didn't have much use for anything permanent. Tents and lean-tos were easily pulled down and moved, forts were less so. "We'll take ten minutes to rest and resupply," she ordered. "Then we'll move on."

Her men accepted the order and dispersed through the camp while Eve walked the edge of the tents, looking out once more. Were there really untold riches in a place like this? Aside from what Servis hid here, would they find anything of use? A warm hand at the small of her back broke her thoughts and she leaned against Alexius.

"You don't like this in Skyhold," she said lightly.

"Not because I dislike the thought of touching you," he assured her. 

"I doubt the scouts and soldiers out here have much room in their daily duties for idle gossip anyway," she sighed.

Alexius chuckled. "My dear, there is always room for idle gossip, no matter your station in life."

"He would know," Servis said, stepping to Eve's other side. "If there is one thing any magister excels at, it's gossiping."

"Servis," Alexius acknowledged curtly.

Eve felt the hand on her back slide around her waist somewhat possessively, and looked at Alexius, curious. "Here I thought they would be too busy trying to run the country."

Servis chuckled. "There are more important things to do than pass laws and effect change. Uphold the status quo, then it's off to the baths to chitter about who was assassinated recently, or who's bedding their Soporati neighbors. Scandals are a copper a dozen and there's never a shortage of circulating rumors."

"Sounds tedious," Eve huffed.

"But one can make an art out of it," Servis declared. "If one knows how to pick through the inanity."

"I imagine they're more guarded around people like you," she said. She was aware of several eyes on her now, her soldiers given the order to watch Servis carefully. It's not as if he was going to try to kill her regardless, but the thought of him doing it here in camp while standing next to Alexius was utterly ridiculous. Still, she couldn't blame them for being overly cautious.

"If they're smart. But not all are, and some are even careless with their secrets. Boastful."

"And you aren't?" she asked, disbelieving.

"I have lasted thus far, Your Worship. I have my head and I have my title both intact. Both of which I managed to keep due to my skills."

"You have you head because I allowed it," she said darkly.

Servis cleared his throat. "Yes, of course. I intended no offense. Simply that I seem to be lacking in whatever attributes which draw you to our mutual friend here, thus I am at a disadvantage straight off."

"Don't," Alexius warned him.

"Speaking of rumors and gossip, surely Gereon you must know what's being said about you here and at home. Or has all news from the Imperium stopped when they stripped you of rank and title? It must be so difficult being disowned by the country you love so greatly."

Eve knew Alexius wasn't going to be so easily goaded, but he did release her in order to turn fully toward Servis. "Stop," she whispered, putting a hand on Alexius's chest before looking at Servis. "Don't make me regret saving your life."

"Our time on this mortal coil is much too short to live with regrets, Your Worship. My apologies," Servis said, though the tone was that of amusement rather than contrition. "Gereon is rather fond of you and I would not wish to make an enemy of _him_ either. If the Archon sees fit to reinstate him, having another ally would be most beneficial."

"You think you're going back to Tevinter after all this?" Eve asked in disbelief. "After what you've done?"

Servis tucked his hands behind his back in mocking remorse and hung his head. "I admit no knowledge of your decisions regarding my fate. I only express hopefulness that one might remember who helped you in this war once all is said and done. And after the Elder One falls – with your inevitable victory, no doubt – what might come of those who assisted you. I assume that Gereon will be free to return. Though… one wonders if that can be attributed to his intelligence or rather his prowess between the sheets."

The force wave of magic caught Servis off guard, and Eve was proud of her own reflexes as the magister tumbled down the gradual sandy incline. Alexius was already pulling her out of the line of retaliation but it never came, Servis choosing to laugh uproariously instead. Several soldiers as well as Bull were there quick as a flash to make sure she was all right, and she had to order two of them to release Servis as they hauled him to his feet.

"He's just being an ass," Eve assured them. "It's fine. Are we ready to go?"

Bull, however, laid a hand on her arm. "I can go alone if you want. You stay here."

She shook her head, though felt slightly ill. The rumor that Alexius was pardoned only because he was her lover would follow her forever. No one would care about the lengths he went to in order to make sure the Inquisition was protected and supplied, the experiments he pushed for, and the current sacrifices he was making. They would only see the fact that he was a mage from Tevinter. And what about her? She only got a pass as a mage due to the fact that they all believed her to be Andraste's Herald. Never mind what she knew to be true. That it wasn't Andraste, but the Divine who saved her life.

"They're just words, Bull," she said, forcing a smile.

"Sometimes that's worse." He looked from her to Alexius, then over his shoulder at Servis who'd been led away to wait with the small group of soldiers. "You let me know."

"I will," she promised.

Alexius waited until they were alone, then leaned down to kiss her cheek. "My ego can handle the blow, love. Servis has only words at his disposal and he knows it. He's testing you."

"Is he always such an asshole?" she asked, finally letting the frustration go.

He chuckled. "Yes. I believe you'll become used to it. Besides," he added with a touch of arrogance, "to believe that you gave me a full pardon based on my skills as a lover? I can think of worse things."

She blushed, remembering his touch, the nights they spent together. "You'll earn a reputation and I'll have to dissuade your suitors from trying to take you away from me."

"They would have a very difficult time indeed," he agreed.

Feeling better about the situation now, Eve joined the others for the trek, her fingers entwined loosely with Alexius's.

-

Silvius was immediately wary of their party, but relaxed visibly when Servis greeted him. They spoke quickly in Antivan, Eve glancing to Alexius who shook his head slightly. Nothing to worry about, she decided, as she watched Servis grip the elf's shoulder. Concern? It was difficult to imagine someone as flippant as Servis being concerned for a slave. And she rankled to realize that he was, in fact, a slave. However there was nothing to be done about it now, even if Silvius wanted to be free. The two of them led the group, climbing down sandy banks to an underground tomb.

"Dwarven ruins?" Eve guessed, looking at the writing. It was blocky, the architecture itself reminiscent of some of the caves and statues she'd seen out on the Storm Coast.

"Here it is." Servis took the staff from his back, rolling his eyes as two of the Inquisition soldiers readied their swords. "Oh do calm down." Turning the alabaster staff in his hands, the red crystal at the top began to glow and an illusory wall fell at once. Several boxes appeared in the dim light of the flickering torches. They were piled high with random trinkets and books and a chest full of gold sovereigns.

Eve gaped. "You pulled this from the ruins?"

"Coracavus was thoroughly cleared out long before your soldiers showed up," Servis informed her. He stepped aside to let her examine.

"Just a minute," said one of her soldiers, nodding at Servis. "What's in your pocket?"

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, my good man," Servis said lightly.

Silvius stepped easily in front of Servis, a blade the length of his palm in hand in an instant. Not that it would've done much good against the soldier's armor and sword, but the implication was there: _do not touch my master_. 

The soldier glared at Silvius, then looked up to Servis. "What you just slipped into your pocket. I saw you palm it."

Servis touched Silvius lightly on the shoulder, gently pushing him aside with a quiet word in Antivan. "I was wondering if the Inquisition was intelligent enough to keep an eye on their prisoners." He withdrew a silver locket and handed it over. "Surely you don't blame me for wanting to retain a bit of the fortune I amassed," he said, looking to Eve.

She frowned, eyes narrowed. "We'll discuss that later. For now, hands off. This is your penance for the lives you took in the Western Approach."

"Of course," Servis said graciously, and pulled Silvius back out of the way as the Inquisition soldiers hauled the crates out of the ruins.

In the end, Eve thought that she might let Servis get away with a piece or two. He seemed more to her like a businessman than a warrior. Someone who profited as Alexius said from blackmail and rumors, not assassination. While Eve didn't agree with the subterfuge, it was a far cry better to use those methods than outright killing your opponents. It took a certain subtlety and intelligence. She would make her decision later, however, back at Skyhold and with the counsel of Leliana and the others. She had no idea how much coin they were sitting on or how it could be used to benefit the Inquisition. After she got a general idea of that, it would be easier to pass judgment.

"Back to camp with it for now," she ordered. "We'll take rest in the nearest outpost and look for the others before dawn."

There was a general murmuring of assent along with a few grumbles which she allowed. She didn't like the idea of being up before dawn either, but the sun would surely bake them alive if they got too late a start. Best to find the next cache before sunrise and then spend the hotter parts of the day conserving their strength. They carried the crates out, but halted on the threshold.

"What is it?" she asked, too short to see past the others.

"Dragon," Bull breathed. "Oh she's a beauty. Look at her patterns."

Eve pushed past the stricken soldiers to see what the others saw and stopped, eyes wide. "Holy Maker," she whispered.

She could see what Bull meant. Larger than any other dragon they fought before, her wings stretched wide as she shook herself out. She flapped once and they felt the power behind it, turning away from the sand that it kicked up. Then she turned her head, eyes glittering like jewels in the moonlight, and stared directly at them. It took less than a second for her to register them as easy prey and the jet of fire that sprayed from her mouth came in the moments after. A shield engulfed them all, the fire smacking hard against the blue-white shimmer and spreading out before dissipating. Eve, Alexius, and Servis had all cast at the same time, protecting the others.

"Looks like it's gonna be a fight!" Bull shouted, axe already in hand.

"She looks very angry," Cole noted before disappearing. They'd fought enemies large than themselves before, and he knew his role well.

"Bull on point," Eve ordered. "You two at her flank." The soldiers nodded and fanned out. "The others with Bull. And Servis-"

"I would like to remind Your Worship that I am not strictly a member of your organization and-"

"Shut up or I'll make you the bait. Wear it down with whatever you can. Keep yourself protected."

"The last part is less difficult. Silvius."

Eve watched him disappear with his elf while the others moved into position. Bull was already taunting the dragon, keeping it on himself while the others ducked in to score hits. She clacked her staff against the stone beneath her feet, keeping the shields on her men and creating a haste bubble around them. Next to her, Alexius removed his staff and etched a rune into the ground.

"I'm going to be fairly useless in this fight," she lamented. "Inferno spells against a fire dragon. What do you need?"

"Just time," Alexius said, withdrawing a potion. "Keep safe, Evelyn." He smashed the potion to the ground and disappeared into the purple mist which billowed up, contained by the rune.

She didn't have time to fathom the spell or the technique, turning her attention back to the field. Bull charged in, slamming the dragon on her snout. She reeled back with a cry even as Cole stepped out of the shadows to quickly stab at her hind quarters. Soldiers darted in to get their blows before running back as she landed. She shook the wounds off, barely bleeding if at all. Mist formed and thickened above her, a crackling of electric energy raining down, tearing at her scaly hide. She screamed in pain and raced forward to get out of the storm's path. A volley of electricity followed, bright purple energy zigzagging across the sand trying to reach any destination. One of the soldiers wasn't quick enough, caught in the crossfire. Eve gripped her staff, casting a spell to put him back on his feet. She felt the thickening in the air, the buzz of magical energy that fueled her aura as she cast.

A thousand shadows snaked along the ground like serpents, hurrying to do their master's bidding. They converged on one of the dragon's limbs, seizing it and dragged her to the sand. She screamed, an ear-splitting sound that pierced the night. Eve heard Bull hollering, shouting orders as they raced in while she was down. A dark spot appeared beyond the dragon, a man shadowed in mist and Eve knew it had to be Alexius. She'd never seen magic like that before, and it seemed he wasn't done. He raised his staff over his head, spun it, and slammed it to the ground. The shadows responded in kind, letting the dragon stumble to her feet before yanking her back down again. She screamed again, her tail flicking wildly, catching one of the soldiers. Eve shook herself from her shock, never having seen this kind of power exacted on a creature like this, and continued to call upon the spirits beyond the Veil to help aid her allies.

Bull was the only one not flagging, still seeming to enjoy himself despite a gash across his chest. He shucked off the leather harness which was in tatters now and shouted at the dragon, taunting her to attack him and laughed when she swiped with a claw. He rolled over the sand and sprang to his feet only to leap away again when she breathed fire at him. The sand solidified, fused together and glassy from the heat. Eve quickly lost her eye line on the others, having to race quickly to keep up. It was bad luck that the dragon had an affinity for fire, otherwise she would have aided in the offensive, her inferno spells potent and well-practiced. Sweat-slicked palms made it difficult to keep hold of her staff which vibrated wildly with the energy she threw out. The ground rumbled under her feet; the dragon began to beat its wings.

"Hold on!" Bull shouted as the maelstrom sucked them all in toward the dragon's body.

Eve cried out in surprise and tried to scramble away out of the range but she was too late and too close. She fell to the ground, finally losing hold of her staff as she was dragged along the rocky ground, coming to rest just under the dragon's hind leg. Cole grabbed her arm and yanked hard, pulling her out of the way as a clawed foot came down hard where she'd just lay. Cole was gone in a flash and Eve immediately cast the barrier spell she practiced day and night, catching Bull and two others in its range. Pushing away the panic that tried to claw its way up into her mind, she concentrated her mana pool on the few healing spells she knew. Throwing her palms out, the blue-white light hit Bull square in the chest, instantly closing the wounds and rejuvenating him. He let out an excited whoop and swung his axe, catching the beast hard in the snout.

The great dragon reared up, wings flapping hard for balance. Arrows flew at her chest, some bouncing off the thick hide, but a few struck true. A burst of whitish electricity caught her next and she took a step back, Eve diving out of the way a second too late. The claws of the dragon's back foot caught her leg, tearing through her light leathers like tissue paper. A burning hot pain followed and she cried out, landing hard and badly in the sand. Two bursts of light shot up from the ground, catching the dragon in the wings, ripping holes through the thin membrane. Another ear-splitting screech rang through the night sky and she began to buck and rampage, the pain forcing her further to anger and rage.

"Watch it!" Bull called. "Shit! Eve, LOOK OUT!"

Eve looked up in time to duck, covering her head instinctively with her arms, curling inward, unable to get to her feet in time, her latent magical talent casting a barrier at the last second. Claws found her back, an intense agony following, and she rolled to a stop several dozen feet away. Lying prone with her leg bent at an unnatural angle, her back was flayed open, blood soaking the sand. She pushed out the last of her mana reserves to throw one last shield toward Bull, who ran head on toward the dragon, answering its cries with his own guttural roar.

Then, everything went slowly black.

-

"She's breathing."

The two words were a blessed relief to Alexius. Once the dragon was dropped, casualty counts were made. Most carried some type of injury, but all were standing. To Alexius's great surprise, Servis did not take the opportunity to run off, and both he and his elf were completely unharmed. He had expected the Iron Bull to celebrate their victory, but the Qunari rushed off as soon as it was clear the dragon wasn't getting up again. At first Alexius had thought the motionless body was that of a soldier, then he realized with dawning horror it was Evelyn. He crossed the sands as quickly as he could, dropping to his knees next to her.

"Hard to tell how bad it is," Bull said, flicking open a knife and cutting through the torn fabric of her robes.

Her back laid flayed open to the bone, the sight eliciting a vicious curse from Bull. Alexius was already pulling potions from his pouch, elfroot and others. He rolled up his sleeves and set to work at once.

"Hey!" Bull shouted at one of the soldiers. "Hey, yeah you. Go to the nearest camp. Get potions, bandages. Healing shit. A stretcher. Now. Yes, you. Go. Fucking run." Then, to Alexius, he asked, "What do you need?"

"Clean water," Alexius replied, frowning in concentration. "Lyrium. I exhausted myself in the fight."

"That spell that tore her wings apart," Bull said, though it was hard to express his excitement at having seen it while Eve lay unconscious. "I'll be right back."

"Here," came a new voice, and a tap on his shoulder.

Alexius looked up. Servis was handing him two vials of lyrium. Normally this sort of thing came with a price. It always came with a price when Servis was involved. But he wasn't asking for anything now, his face stoic, impossible to read through the dim moonlight. Alexius took them both from him with a nod, uncorked one and downed it. His magic returned to him in full force. While healing spells were in direct contention to his necromancy and shadow magic, he was able to perform simpler tasks. Knitting muscle was near impossible, but he could at least ensure she wouldn't bleed out. The broken shin bone would have to wait.

He tried not to listen to the tiny part inside his mind that was screaming, banging on the walls to be let out. The memory of Livia's body, of Felix wasting away. Was the Maker so cruel that he would take another away from him? And so soon after finding her? He shoved away the welling fear. There was no room for despair here. Luckily Bull returned with two water skins which he handed over. Alexius cleaned out the wounds, hands and wrists covered in Evelyn's blood. Bandages arrived soon after, along with more medicines and healing salves. A man stepped forward, but the Iron Bull slapped his chest with a broad hand, shaking his head.

"But I-"

"Don't get in his way," Bull warned.

"There's little else to be done," Alexius whispered. He finished bandaging the wounds, pulling his robes off. "Her leg," he said, looking up at the man.

The Inquisition healer, slightly affronted that he was halted in doing his job, knelt stiffly to take care of Evelyn's leg as Alexius draped his robes over her back. He brushed her hair from her face and wiped away the sand. Her cheek was bruised, no doubt from the fall, and he let forth a slightly haphazard burst of magic to heal it. Once her leg was set and bound, Alexius allowed Bull to place her on the stretcher and walked beside her as soldiers took up either end. He held her limp hand in his own, his worry eased only by the fact that it was still quite warm. She was alive. She would live. He repeated the words over and over, though the worry didn't cede much as they trekked toward camp.


	19. Chapter 19

"You're exhausted."

"I will be fine."

Alexius didn't look up as the Iron Bull entered the tent. He had an immediate aversion to the large Qunari warrior, but it wasn't his business who the Inquisition hired to get the job done. He rarely if ever needed to interact with him, and Evelyn's safety appeared to be his top priority. If anyone asked Alexius before today he would've written Bull off as a savage brute like the rest of his ilk. But he was oddly tender and concerned. He'd washed up thankfully, the blood from the dragon gone, a standard issue herbal soap scent lingering now as he handed Alexius a cup of tea.

"Thank you," Alexius said, because he was nothing if not polite. But he didn't look at Bull. He was sitting rather stiffly next to one of the rickety cots in a large tent, watching Evelyn breathe. There was no telling how long she would be unconscious, or how long it would take her wounds to fully heal.

"It's just past sunrise. You haven't slept yet."

"While I appreciate the concern, young man, I am fully aware of my limitations when it comes to my sleep." It came out sharp. He frowned and sipped his tea, which tasted of cinnamon.

"Yeah. Guess you're right." Bull sat next to him, cross-legged on the floor.

Alexius frowned. No doubt he simply wanted to be helpful, to watch over his friend. It was irritating. He wished to be alone with Evelyn. His presence here seemed to keep away all the other Inquisition members save the healer, who checked in once an hour before heading to sleep. And Servis had looked in once, graciously asked if anything was needed, then made himself scarce once Alexius assured him there was nothing.

"You eat anything yet?"

"No." He heard the shifting of fabric and a ration packet was tossed into his lap. "I'm not hungry, thank you."

"Starving yourself isn't going to make her wake up any faster."

Alexius stayed silent. He saw the compassion for what it was but it wasn't helping. His thoughts were too scattered, too preoccupied with the visions of seeing Evelyn's still form lying in the sand, her blood on his hands. He carefully opened the package to reveal the formless tan lump, and pulled it apart.

"Not much out here except poison spiders," Bull said apologetically. "More trouble than they're worth to pick around the bits that won't kill you. Makes me miss Ferelden with all the wildlife you can kill and eat."

"I cannot say I have much experience in the ways of camping or hunting."

"You don't say," Bull said flatly. "Why'd you come out here?"

He contemplated the ration bar, sniffed, then tentatively took a bite. It was fairly tasteless, a tinge of lemon giving it the only flavor. "They tell me you're a Qunari spy."

Bull grunted. "Not anymore."

"Did your training disappear when you became Tal-Vashoth?" Alexius asked carefully. He forced himself to take another bite. Despite his current state of worry, there was truth to the Iron Bull's statement. He would need to keep his strength up.

"Yeah, good point." He huffed. "So you came for her. I get that. But there was more to it otherwise you would've been asking to come out long before we got dragged out to this shithole."

"I don't trust Servis." He did, but only to a certain extent, and certainly not with Evelyn. Servis had proven time and time again that he had loyalty unto himself and no one else. Not that Alexius blamed him, but nor did that mean he had to accept the man's selfish nature.

"Hm."

"You may as well speak your mind," Alexius said, setting half the ration bar aside and took up his tea once more. He frowned when Evelyn shuddered in her sleep.

"Nah. I get it. But you know we're _all_ watching him."

"As professional as I find the men and women of the Inquisition…" He let the statement hang. "I suspect you're all watching me as well."

Bull leaned back, palms flat on the tent floor. "Not as much as you'd think. I do it because instinct. Not because you're a 'Vint, just because I like knowing things. Seeing things."

"Useful traits in a spy," Alexius acknowledged.

"Bodyguard, too."

"I expect so. And is that what you are to Evelyn?"

Bull grinned. "Getting jealous, old man?" He flexed his pectorals, making them bounce individually.

Had Evelyn not been lying unconscious a foot away from him, Alexius might have smiled. He recognized the arrogance of youth and was secure enough not to take the bait, teasing though it was. "I suspect that if Evelyn wished to enjoy your company in such a way, she would have done so already."

"Ouch."

"My apologies, I meant no insult," Alexius said. He leaned back in the rickety chair and crossed an ankle over his knee. His eyes remained on Evelyn, however, who was sleeping somewhat uneasily.

"You're right, I guess. She sort of avoided me at first." He shrugged. "Understandable. The horns and all." But his tone indicated he knew they weren't the only reason. The shrug showed he understood why. "Still." He looked at her. "She's a pretty good judge of character."

Alexius raised an eyebrow, glancing down at him. "Was that a compliment?"

Bull shrugged again. "If you want to take it, sure. No skin off my back. The thing is, it takes all kinds, right? Sheath for every sword. You and her, not many people are going to buy it as legitimate."

"A crude if apt idiom. I am quite aware of what people think." He cleared his throat. "I assume you have a point. Or perhaps to threaten me with bodily harm should I hurt her." _As if I could,_ he thought.

Bull was quiet for some time, eye narrowed as he looked at Evelyn. Then he stood up, brushed his hands off on his pants, and looked at Alexius. "No, I'm not going to say that because you're not stupid. You know the score."

"Then what?" He was tired. He was worried for Evelyn. And while the Iron Bull had never given him reason to dislike him, there was a mutual animosity based solely on their nation of origin.

"I have her back. And I got yours." Bull held out his hand.

Alexius took it, shaking firmly. This wasn't the outcome he'd expected. Bull left, the tent flap falling back into place, and he thought for a moment. He'd been prepared for some kind of overprotective speech, or perhaps some ineloquent grunting. Granted, his experience with Qunari overall had largely left a bad taste in his mouth. He knew now that he'd severely misjudged this one. Evelyn was in good hands, should something ever happen to him, since he couldn't depend on the Trevelyans treating their daughter with the love and respect she deserved. There was Dorian, of course, and Maevaris would likely adopt Evelyn the second she met her. _You're being morbid,_ he chastised himself. Sighing, he picked the ration bar back up and slowly began to eat, knowing how upset Evelyn would be if she knew he'd neglected himself for her.

-

A full day and night passed, the healer coming and going every two hours, checking on Evelyn's wounds, making sure she was hydrated with potions. Alexius refused to let the man deal with the unsavory aspects of her treatment, changing her clothing and sponge bathing her, leaving the tent only to empty the chamber pot in the latrine. He looked at the long wide gashes on her back when the bandages were removed, and though she couldn't feel it or know that he was there, held her hand when they were redressed.

The Iron Bull dropped by twice more to bring him ration packs and fill his water skin though they never said much. Alexius thanked him for his courtesy, Bull told him not to mention it. Quick reports of what was going on were enough to let Alexius know that several more caches were found and their journey to Skyhold was imminent. Servis remained in camp after every excursion, speaking only to his elf. No one seemed to want to be in charge of telling him what to do, but he was fed all the same. And everyone was waiting for Evelyn to wake up.

"She doesn't have the nightmares anymore."

"Good morning, Cole," Alexius said, sipping a cup of tea. He'd grown used to the odd spirit, though in recent memory he definitely referred to him as a boy more than a spirit.

"Her training helped," Cole said, standing just inside the tent. He pressed the backs of his hands together and entwined his fingers, rocking forward on the balls of his feet before leaning back on his heels. "She's fighting her way through the darkness now, memories more painful than the ones she lost."

"Come sit," Alexius said, patting the bed opposite Evelyn's.

Cole moved as quickly and as silently as a shadow, settling just behind Alexius, who turned his chair a little. "You think of her, the woman with the dark hair and dark eyes."

"My wife."

"You're afraid you'll lose Eve like you lost her."

If Alexius hadn't been used to Cole by now, he would've found the statements intrusive and rude. While he was no stranger to summoning spirits, using them to inhabit corpses or for general work around his estate, there were very few willing to sit and have a chat with him. He wasn't attuned to the Fade like some of his fellows who would walk in waking dreams, and visited it himself only late at night. Memories were painful and he preferred the visions that brought him happier sights. But he was too wise to believe any of it was real. Years of training and focus taught him not to venture too close to that happiness and to only seek it during his waking hours.

"You think he might win. The man who promised you lies."

"It's a concern. However, a distant one. The Inquisition grows ever larger with more power behind it every day that passes."

Cole nodded. "Yes." He paused, head tilted, legs swinging idly off the cot. "She dreams of a city full of golden dragons. The city fades into cold, grey stone. A man standing before her, his face hewn from the same stone, glaring, glowering. He hollers with rage, fists clenched and teeth gnashing. 'No daughter of mine is a filthy mage.'"

Alexius pursed his lips. He could have surmised as much from what little knowledge he had of her family. Despicable that any father would look at their child in such a way. Though he found it tiresome to hate anyone, that his emotions and energy were better spent on other pursuits, he cultivated a small seed of pure loathing for Lord Trevelyan. A man should give his children every chance to succeed, no matter their talents. His thoughts shifted to Felix. It was no large sacrifice to make sure he had all the advantages given to him, despite his fledgling magical talent. The boy could've been pure Soporati and Alexius would still have ensured his happiness. But Trevelyan gladly gave his daughter away the second she proved to be different.

"A cruel world that forces parents into thinking they should love their children less for what they may become," he mused.

Cole hopped off the cot, crossed the small space, and laid a hand on Evelyn's shoulder. "She's waking. She wants to see you."

Alexius sat up straight. "Evelyn?"

The space where Cole was became suddenly empty, and soft blue eyes fluttered opened. Alexius pulled the chair close, leaning forward to take her hand, the other brushing back her hair.

"What?"

Though he knew she would survive, the anxiety finally broke like a battered dam, relief rushing forth. "Try not to move."

"I can't feel anything," she muttered, lifting her head a little before deciding the effort was too much.

"Likely good, everything considered." He leaned down so she could see him without trying to move. "Do you remember what happened?"

"A bloody great dragon tried to kill me," she huffed, then winced. "I'm so tired."

He smiled, no longer tense, no longer left to wonder when she might wake up. "You fought a dragon and lived. I think you've earned the rest."

"How bad?" She closed her eyes, arms dangling off either side of the cot.

"Your leg was broken but that was easily healed. The wounds on your back were substantial." It was hard to forget the grey-white bone that was her rib cage, the blood-soaked sand as she lay unconscious.

She reached up carefully and touched the corner of his mouth. "Don't fret. I'm alive, right?"

He laughed, a release of nerves, took her hand and kissed her fingertips. "Right."

"Though, Maker, it feels otherwise," she groaned. Then, suddenly as if she realized the situation, she looked at him, eyes wide. "Did anyone else get hurt?"

"Everyone survived. There were a few wounded but your spells kept them on their feet. Calm down." He said this last in a commanding tone, brushing back her hair to kiss her forehead. "Your soldiers worked to bring in the stockpiles Servis had hidden."

"Sounds like I missed all the fun." She hissed, a sharp intake of breath as her back throbbed in pain. She buried her face in the pillow, clutching Alexius's hand hard.

"Easy," Alexius soothed. "You may be more comfortable back at Skyhold. If the healer clears you for travel, would you like to return?"

Eve nodded at once, hating the Hissing Wastes and indeed all of western Orlais right now. "Cassandra's going to be so angry."

"More with myself than with you," he assured her. "I'll locate the healer and have a quick word."

"Tell Bull to go with you. Intimidation factor," she said, managing a small smile.

"Oh?" Alexius smiled, kissing the back of her hand before standing. "Am I not intimidating enough?"

"Only to those who know what you're capable of. To everyone else, you're just…" She waved a hand. "Adorable."

He snorted. "I'll blame the misappropriation of my appearance on the painkilling potions that are currently in your system. Try not to move."

She nodded and sighed when he left, her arm left to dangle once more. The tent flap opened a moment later and she saw a pair of boots appear in front of her. With a bit of effort, she managed to look up. "Servis."

"Good to see that you're not dead," he said in the tone of someone wishing her a pleasant good morning. "That would have put a terrible crimp on my plans."

It was strange, the odd surge of anxiety that rested square in the middle of her chest. Though the implication would point to the fact that he wanted her alive, the tone and his general oily nature made the entire thing seem ominous. She didn't like it. "Oh?"

"You see…" He crouched down to look her in the eye, forearms resting on his knees. "Now that I've found my house slave, I'd like to go home. Seeing as how you're in charge around here and, well, very nearly everywhere else, if you were to give the order to let me go…"

"Not until Leliana's had a chance to see if the items are really useful." She watched him frown. "You honestly thought I'd just let you go? Just like that? After everything?"

He shrugged, a small gesture, then folded his hands, tucking them under his chin. "You can hardly blame me for trying. Now, as to the matter of my house slave-"

"He has a name," Eve said, annoyed with the idea that Servis would ask her such a thing, and then to bring up the fact that he owned a slave... She hadn't been introduced, but had heard Servis address him, though couldn't remember the elf's name at the moment.

"Indeed he does," Servis confirmed, but did not elaborate. "And we would both very much like to go home."

"He's welcome to stay at Skyhold with you while Leliana sorts out the artifacts." She tried not to wince as her back throbbed. Though it was pointless to try to avoid showing weakness right now when she knew she was heavily bandaged. Servis had likely seen her lying unconscious and bleeding, but she still wanted to show a strong, brave front.

"In the dungeons," Servis said dryly.

"No. We'll get you a proper room once we're there," she promised.

"Wouldn't it simply be more economically viable to let me go here? I could find my own passage north. You wouldn't have to accommodate me for the days or weeks it would take your spymaster to evaluate the items and we would all be happier for not having to endure one another's company any longer."

The tent flap opened. "What do you want, 'Vint?"

Eve sighed, this time in relief. While she could handle Servis on her own, it was a lot easier to depend on Bull to take care of him for her while she was in this state. "Servis was attempting a deal. Unfortunately he has nothing left to bargain with. He's coming with us back to Skyhold. His…" She frowned, hating to use the word. "His slave is welcome as well. And if he wishes, he can stay in Skyhold when Servis returns to Tevinter."

Servis laughed at that, standing up. "Forgive me, Your Worship. Silvius will not voluntarily leave my side. Excuse me, I will see myself out."

Bull stepped aside, glaring at him as he left, then took up the chair Alexius had vacated earlier. "He said you were awake finally. Should I even ask you how you're feeling?"

"We took her down, didn't we?" she asked. The end of the fight was all a bit of a blur. "Salvageable pieces?"

"Yeah, don't you worry about that. Your guys are taking care of things. Your uh… magister. He's got some pretty impressive shit in his arsenal that I've never seen before."

Eve couldn't summon the energy to lift her head, but she did manage a smile, eyes flicking up briefly to look at Bull. "He does."

"Manipulating shadows and shit."

"Part of necromancy, I think." She wasn't entirely sure. While she learned from Dorian, she excelled in fire-based spells but didn't really want to touch his other specialty. Raising corpses seemed unnecessary. But she wouldn't begrudge either him or Alexius their abilities. "It helped."

"Brought some kind of sunbeam down through her wings, just ripped 'em to shreds. Never seen that before." His tone was thoughtful.

"What's on your mind, Bull?" she asked, knowing he wouldn't be bringing this up without a point. He was hardly one to mince words, really, and seemed to be hesitating.

"You gonna take him when you fight Corypheus?"

Eve frowned. "I… hadn't thought about it. I guess I'm not thinking that far ahead."

"You should."

"And what do you think? Obviously that I should bring him," she said, still frowning. Alexius in a fight against Corypheus. Would he even want to face him again? Would he want revenge?

"I'm not saying we'll ever be drinking buddies," Bull admitted. "But you can't waste talent like that when you need to throw everything you got at that asshole." When she hesitated, he continued. "This was your first fight on the field with him. I've seen couples fight together before. They become a liability. Too busy watching each other or protecting the other one. But neither of you did that. You did what you had to do. Yeah, he's gonna feel guilty for what happened to you, but he knows logically it wasn't his fault, right?"

"Right. Wait. He feels guilty? Why?"

The noise of disbelief was edging on amusement. "Seriously? Woman he loves gets hurt in the field and you don't think he's going to feel bad for not protecting you? The thing is, he _knows_ there's probably nothing he could've done. And had he tried to spend the whole fight watching your back, something else could've happened. Probably would've. My point is that you're good together. You fight without taking your eye off the prize."

"And… you've seen it happen the other way? Where people stop paying attention?" She felt a small surge of pride. Of course she'd been worried for him on the field, but her training paid off. It paid off every day that she had to fight.

"Oh shit yeah," Bull said, the chair creaking a bit as he leaned back in it. "That's how people get killed."

"So you think I should bring him to fight Corypheus because you think that he'll be an asset?"

"Just consider it, that's all I'm saying."

The tent flap opened once more, Alexius stepping through. "The healer wasn't happy with the idea of your traveling, but I've convinced him we'll take fine care of you. We'll leave within the hour."

"Thank the Maker," she breathed. "I'm so tired of this country."

"Yeah, home sounds good," Bull agreed, standing up. "Think about what I said, right, boss?"

"Of course. I promise."

Then, to Alexius, he said, "You need any help carrying her into the cart, let me know."

"Thank you."

Eve watched Alexius come into view and smiled. "Thank you for pushing so hard for that. I can't wait to get out of here. Though I could use another potion maybe." Her back ached and throbbed, sending little ripples of pain down her legs every so often. She was exhausted, too tired to even call up the smallest bit of flame in her palm.

"You'll recover better in your own bed." He leaned down and pulled a vial from his bag. "Here, something that will dull your senses. But it may make you a little woozy."

"I don't care. Please."

Alexius brushed back her hair and helped her incline her head just a little before tipping the contents into her mouth. She swallowed, then relaxed and closed her eyes.

"What are you considering for the Iron Bull?" he asked, curious.

"Mm." The potion was fast-acting, the second it hit her stomach it started to work. An almost euphoric feeling overcame her. "Taking you to defeat Corypheus." She yawned. "He says we fight well together. Better than any couple he's ever seen. That we take care of things on the field and don't focus on keeping the other protected."

"Yes, well," Alexius mused, "perhaps I ought to have. If I'd-"

"Shh," she said, raising a finger to shush him before her hand dropped again. "You did exactly what you were supposed to. There's no reason to feel guilty or anything. In fact, I absolve you of all guilt."

He laughed, amused with her slight intoxication. "Oh, do you?"

"Mmhm."

Alexius smiled. While the guilt of not being able to protect her did not ebb entirely, it had faded just a little. "All right, then. I suppose I will have to stop thinking about that."

"Damn right. What did you give me? I think I'm seeing dragons behind my eyelids." Her hand came up again as if to wave away the imaginary dragons.

"Hm. The strain should have been fairly weak but with the toll your body has taken in combination with the other medication perhaps it has magnified the dose. Or you're simply just a lightweight."

"I do not suffer insults lightly, Gereon," she murmured, a slight slur to her words. "I shall challenge you to a duel for my honor."

He laughed. "Definitely too strong a strain for your body. The good news is that you'll likely feel no pain. The bad news, I'm afraid, is that you'll be sleeping off the effects for a few hours. We'll be on the road by then. Ah, speaking of, your stretcher is here."

"I can absolutely walk," she said. "See?"

"Mm. Cara mia?"

"Yes? I like when you call me that."

"Do you think you're walking?" He was unable to keep the amusement from his tone.

"I just did a backflip," she declared. "But please tell the dragons to stop dancing. They're terrible at it."

"Yes, love," Alexius promised.

He helped the Iron Bull carefully transport her to the stretcher, then to the cart that would bring them back to Skyhold. Hopefully Evelyn would sleep peacefully and not embarrass herself on the way. He knew that if she said anything, once she woke up, he would get an earful. However, he preferred the potential berating to a certain funeral.

"You'll be all right," he promised, sitting on the long bench next to her, hold her hand. "We're going home now."

"Oh good. I'm going to take a nap. Wake me when we get there." She yawned, then dropped off back to sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

Their return to Skyhold was not quite the triumphant welcome home that Eve was hoping for. She still couldn't walk, though her leg was fine. The wounds on her back made it difficult to move and standing took more effort than she cared to exert. However, she insisted on being moved from the cart to a more conventional carriage for the final stretch to Skyhold. While they'd stopped in camps in the Dales along the way to switch out fresh horses and some of her men witnessed her lying in the cart, injured, she didn't want to confirm the rumors that were likely already circulating Skyhold. However, the cushioned bandages and the padded seat in the cart combined with the constant jostling exacerbated the pain, and she was fairly sure she'd crushed at least three of Alexius's fingers gripping his hand.

Cassandra, as she predicted, was there to greet her as were Dorian and Solas. Alexius got out of the carriage first, helping her down, while Bull guided her carefully. Her feet hit the ground of the courtyard while the horses were brought to the stables to be unhitched. She wished they'd timed their arrival better, an early morning or late evening rather than the height of afternoon. Too many people were watching her. Bull stood directly behind her lest anyone get too close and try to hit her on the back or arm in a gesture of welcome. Alexius held her up under the elbow and she leaned heavily on him.

"Maker's Breath, so the rumors are true?" Dorian asked, immediately going to her other side. He looked from her to Alexius for answers.

"Depends on the rumors," she said, wincing. "Easy. Help me up to the throne room."

"The rumor that there was a Venatori attack and you were nearly killed," Cassandra said, leading the way. Her glare kept any well-wishers at bay.

"It was a dragon," Eve corrected. "We killed it. Didn't you receive the spoils?"

"Indeed we have," Cassandra confirmed. "You're certain there were no Venatori?"

"I don't know. I was unconscious for a few days. Bull?" Eve asked, feeling rather snippy.

"Just the ex-ones you decided to bring along," he said lightly.

"See? No Venatori. Just a giant dragon with giant claws that tried to rip me apart." She tried to walk up the stairs but her legs barely cooperated. Alexius and Dorian lifted her easily. The wall they formed around her made it difficult for any onlookers to notice how injured she truly was. "Did the artifacts make it?"

"They arrived two days ago. Leliana and her people are having a difficult time cataloguing them all." Cassandra rounded the second set of stairs, turning a little so she could look Eve up and down. "I will fetch the healer."

"No need, Seeker," Solas, who'd trailed after Bull, said confidently. "Once we have her safely away from prying eyes, I'll be more than happy to oversee her injuries."

Cassandra looked to Eve, who nodded. "I'll be fine in a day or two."

"The Void you will," Dorian said. "Unless you're going to tell me that the rumors of you being flayed open are false as well. That it's just a scratch."

Thankfully Alexius stayed quiet and Bull didn't have anything to add either. Eve silently thanked them both and made a mental note voice her appreciation once they were alone. "It was bad, but I'll make a full recovery. I swear. You worry too much."

"I think I worry just enough, thank you very much." But there was relief mixed in anxiety, Dorian just happy that she was still alive after the gossip that had circulated the castle.

Eve surveyed the throne room, eyes falling on the door to her quarters. "More stairs," she sighed.

"Let's get you in there," Bull said. "Then I'll carry you the rest of the way."

It was either that, she supposed, or Alexius's quarters. The denizens of Skyhold could likely accept the idea that she was injured in the field and needed a few days to recover. She would delegate responsibilities from her quarters, issue orders and take care of important meetings there. Her room was opulent enough that it could double as an office. Where Alexius's room was… not. They might also interpret a power shift, an imbalance. Politics, she decided, were immensely stupid. So she nodded. Once the door was shut, Bull knelt down and picked her up, arms clutched underneath her, creating a sort of seat for her while she wrapped her own around his neck. Her legs went immediately around his waist, and she let out a cry of pain as her back stretched.

Alexius touched her shoulder. "Evelyn."

"I'm fine," she promised. Everything would be stiff and sore even after it was healed. The goal right now was to not reopen her wounds and start bleeding again. 

Bull took the stairs slowly as to not jostle her. Dorian and Solas went ahead to clear the path of any random debris, stacks of wood or random furniture that seemed to pile up in the corridors, supplies that had yet to be used. Cassandra and Alexius trailed, and Eve could see the worried look on Alexius's face, the frown that touched Cassandra's lips. She closed her eyes, and in a few short minutes they reached her room. Bull set her down carefully on her bed. Her first instinct was to lie down, but she knew her back would not thank her for that.

Alexius immediately knelt and started to untie her boots, causing her to blush. It seemed an almost subservient act, something intimate, and she wished he would have waited until they were alone. Dorian set to removing the large cushions from the bed, tying back the curtains of the four-poster, while Bull brought over her correspondence.

"I'm not an invalid," she protested.

"No," Cassandra agreed. "But there is something to be said about letting your friends help you. No doubt everyone will visit before long to check on you."

"You're not mad, are you?" Eve asked, worried.

"No."

Eve exhaled, relieved. "Because we did the best we could."

"Of that I've no doubt. Do you require anything?"

Eve shook her head. "Just sleep for now. The journey was awful. I'll look at these in a few hours," she said, gesturing to the letters Bull placed on her bedside table. "Then maybe you could all come join me for dinner up here. The others as well. And maybe Leliana can tell us what she found in those caches."

"Very well," Cassandra agreed. "I will leave your care in the hands of Solas."

Solas gave a slight bow.

"When you are feeling up to it, we need to discuss our next move. There is talk about movement in the Arbor Wilds," Cassandra continued.

Eve frowned. "Arbor Wilds? Where are they?"

"Southern Orlais."

Eve hung her head, a spike of pain radiating down her back. She gave a frustrated grunt. "More of that Maker-forsaken country." Then she yawned, unable to keep up the pretense of being strong and capable. "When I wake up."

Cassandra nodded. "Until tonight."

Dorian leaned over and carefully kissed Eve's forehead. "I suppose I should take my leave of you as well. You worried me. Don't ever do that again."

"I shall endeavor not to get flayed open by any more dragons."

"I'm holding you to that. I would be very cross should something happen to you." He kissed her again, gave Bull a look, and headed out.

Bull looked down at her. "You need anything else, boss?"

She started to shake her head, but stopped. Too much movement at this juncture seemed like a bad idea. "No. Go have a drink for me. Tell the Chargers all about the dragon. Oh, and if you can find Cole, just make sure he's all right."

"You got it." He laid a very gentle hand on her shoulder by way of parting and left.

"I think they believe they're being subtle," Alexius mused.

"No doubt," Solas agreed.

"Huh?" Eve felt lost, but mostly tired.

"A discussion for another day, mellita." He took her hand and kissed her knuckles before standing. Crossing to the dresser, he pulled out a fresh pair of smallclothes and a pair of soft linen pants. "Let's get you undressed so our esteemed healer can see to your back."

Eve blushed a little but felt reassured as Solas turned around to give her some privacy. Alexius removed her shirt carefully, then helped her in taking off the travel-worn trousers and smalls. It was an extremely vulnerable feeling to be sitting her room with both Alexius and Solas, naked save for the bandages wrapped around her chest and middle. Also rather cold. She shivered and Alexius lit the fire with a casual wave of his hand before helping her into fresh clothing and helped her to lie on her stomach.

"There."

"Your healer in the Hissing Wastes is very competent," Solas assured her as he removed the bandages.

The soft sheets felt nice against her bare chest, Solas's hands on her back warm and comforting. Alexius sat next to her, holding her hand, stroking her hair. She drifted in and out, listening to his diagnosis, and was glad that Alexius was there to understand what next steps she would need to take. When she opened her eyes again, the fire was still going, but Solas was gone. Alexius was sitting in bed next to her, reading a book.

"Hm?"

He looked down at her and rested a gentle hand on her head. "Sleep for now. I'll wake you when it's time to eat."

Content with that, Eve closed her eyes again and slept.

-

Dinner was strange with everyone gathered in her room. Her back still ached, but she was able to sit up, wearing a very soft shirt, propped against several pillows and cushions. With a dinner tray balanced on her lap, she listened to reports from Josephine and Cullen, Leliana's take on the artifacts brought in from the Hissing Wastes, and most importantly, what Cassandra had to say about the Arbor Wilds. Empress Celene's Arcane Advisor had laid out some very interesting information regarding what might be out there. Leliana advised caution, which was to Eve the most telling thing. If she worked with Celene's advisor back when the Fifth Blight hit, it was worth heeding her words if she was wary of her.

Her friends wished her well as they departed. Depending on her recovery, they would be leaving as early as next week for the Wilds. Scouts were sent ahead with soldiers to follow. Even if the Venatori and red templars reached their destination before the Inquisition, they would find opposition. Eve only hoped that they wouldn't be too late. Corypheus had been searching the strangest places for a long time now and the best her intelligence could tell her was that it had to do something with ancient elven temples.

"What do you think?" she asked Solas when most of the others had cleared out. He stayed behind to check her wounds, while Dorian lingered as well. Alexius, of course, had no intentions of leaving.

"I believe he's searching for something to enhance his power. The elven orb I spoke of, there may be more of them to find."

"The Magisterium's archives have paintings of men holding similar looking orbs," Dorian said contemplatively.

"The somniari," Alexius confirmed. "The Dreamers of old. Do you believe this orb could be one in the same?"

Solas pursed his lips but nodded. "It is possible. The humans of ancient times took much from the elves."

Eve watched Dorian cast his eyes downward, seemingly guilty, though Solas hadn't meant it as a jab. "Corypheus is an ancient darkspawn magister. Is it possible he took the orb from one of the ancient elves? But if he was locked in Warden's prison, how did he get it? Was it locked in there with him? Hawke would've said something, I think."

"Questions to which we may never receive the answers," Solas said lightly. "Your wounds should be recovered enough for us to depart at the expected time. That is, for _you_ to depart."

"You'll come with, won't you?" she asked. "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather take to an old forest looking for elven ruins."

Solas smiled. "I would be honored to accompany you."

"Traipsing around the forest, uncovering Maker knows what, sleeping on the ground," Dorian sighed.

"Of course you don't have to come," Eve said, though it was hardly a threat. She knew Dorian would insist.

"You would miss me terribly. And look what happens when you don't bring me along. You were mauled by a dragon." He tsked. "Someone needs to keep you safe."

"Oh of course," she said, somewhat sarcastically and glanced to Alexius, who smirked and rolled his eyes.

Dorian huffed. "Well, yes, fine, I suppose a _dragon_ is quite different than what we'll find in the jungle. I am quite efficient against Venatori. Something about slaughtering the men who would set Tevinter back a thousand years just tickles me pink."

Eve laughed.

Solas stood. "I shall prepare for the journey and attend to you in the morning. Try to get some rest."

"Thank you," she said, reaching out her hand. She smiled when he took it and squeezed gently. "Good night, Solas."

"And you, Inquisitor," he said and descended the stairs.

"I've never met a more curious elf," Alexius stated. "Vastly intelligent. And rather good at hiding whatever he seems to be."

"Let him have his secrets," Eve said gently. "Solas is a really private person. It's best not to pry. And he's been such a good friend. I don't need to know everything that goes on in his head."

"I expect you would need a good several weeks to learn that," Dorian agreed. "And Alexius, what about you?"

"I've already tried to teach you what's in my head, Dorian, I believe you preferred the alcohol to the knowledge," he teased.

Dorian scowled, though it lacked any real rancor. "I was inferring about the Arbor Wilds, though I expect the opening was too easy for you to simply let it go. You just had to get the insult in, didn't you?" He looked at Eve. "This is the man you've decided to fall in love with, just so you're aware. Terribly rude to me. Me, your best friend in the world."

Eve laughed and patted his hand consolingly. "I'm sure you'll get over it."

"Get over it, she says. I think I've been replaced!" He clutched his chest in mock hurt, then relaxed. "Honestly, are you going to join us?"

Alexius considered this before looking at Eve. He started to speak, but she cut him off.

"No. I think you ought to stay here." The response seemed to surprise both men, and she hastened to explain. "I was thinking about what you were working on before we left. The permanent increase in abilities. I think that maybe after everything that happened in the Hissing Wastes, I'd like you to focus on a solution. Something that would help. Something…" She exhaled, trying to gather her thoughts. "I'm going to have to kill Corypheus. I know this. But I'm not ready. Not yet. But I'm also not in a position to turn down any help. So if you stayed here and worked on it and came up with something I could use, something that would help me increase my powers, I would be foolish not to take it."

"It sounds rather dangerous," Dorian said, glancing at Alexius. "Permanent alteration?"

"It exists already," Alexius confirmed. "Primarily in blood magic, but there must be a way without resorting to that. With what little information I've been able to collect I've already started to make some progress, but I would need more time."

"Then you have it. You'll work on it while I'm away," Eve said. Her hand found his, squeezing tightly. "And when I return, you'll have it ready, then I'll take it."

Dorian smirked. "Well. I'll admit at first I was a bit worried about the two of you but I can see it was all for naught. Goodness, Alexius, she does have you rather wrapped around her finger."

"Yes, but I've yet to braid her hair," Alexius returned, smirk and all.

"True enough," Dorian agreed. He reached up and tugged on a lock of Eve's unbraided hair, then stood. "I'll leave you to it, then. If you need any help before I'm off, do feel free to come find me," he said to Alexius. He leaned down, kissed Eve's cheek, then took his leave.

"Will you ask for his help?" Eve asked.

Alexius began undressing for bed, thinking a moment. "Perhaps, yes. Dorian's always had a very strong intuition. His research skills are nearly unparalleled, and he's exceptional at problem-solving. It's one of the many reasons I took him for apprenticeship. His talents were being wasted."

"On what?" she asked, admiring the view as Alexius stripped. Her back throbbed, reminding her that any strenuous activities – either in bed or out of it – would have to wait until she was recovered.

"On drinking and whoring," he said dryly. He extinguished the flickering candles in the chandelier and those on the bedside table. The fire in the fireplace crackled as he helped her to lie on her stomach before sliding into bed.

She immediately curled up around him, head on his shoulder and his hand came to rest in her hair. "He talks about it so flippantly, his home life."

"I'm not in the habit of betraying confidences. However, I will say that being part of the Inquisition – regardless of what his father thinks – is truly the best place for Dorian. I haven't seen him flourish this way in quite some time."

"You're really all right staying here while we go to the Arbor Wilds?" she asked, changing the subject. While it was always nice to listen to the conversations Dorian and Alexius had, learning things about both men and additional tidbits of knowledge that would emerge during their talk, once they separated it always seemed to feel a bit awkward. It was clear that they cared about each other very much, but hadn't quite worked out everything in their past. Eve hoped the wounds would eventually mend. While Dorian could never replace Felix, and she thought that Alexius could likely never replace Halward, it was obvious they needed those types of connections in their lives.

"Yes, I daresay there will be more than enough to keep me occupied here while you go searching the jungle for ruins."

"I'm a little nervous about Morrigan," Eve admitted. She'd spoken to the other mage only twice, once at the Winter Palace where she'd been practically told there was no choice in whether or not Morrigan was joining them, then a few days after returning to Skyhold when they had a brief conversation. She felt a bit guilty for not talking with her more, but things had become rather hectic both with her personal life and with things in the Inquisition.

"I would trust your spymaster's intuition and experience. Personally never having met the woman, I could not give you my opinion of her. However, you will want to be wary. A mage advisor to the Empress of Orlais? A court position in the south given to a mage is suspicious enough. That they foisted this woman onto you makes it more so."

"Spies in every shadow," Eve agreed, sighing. She felt the wounds in her back pull and stretch as she tugged the blanket up.

Alexius chuckled and tucked it carefully around her. "And they say we northerners have no tolerance for the cold."

"Dorian doesn't," she pouted. "Leliana doesn't think Morrigan's here to spy. And she's given advice – mostly unwanted, but still, she's been helpful from what I understand. If I'm to go hiking through the Wilds with her, I should have gotten to know her a bit better, I think."

"There will be time," Alexius assured her. "You're not leaving until next week. I suspect I'll be quite busy with my research. You can take tea in the garden with her. See what her interests in the Wilds are beyond what Corypheus is seeking or if that's merely it." He paused. "I am relieved that Dorian will be with you along with, I assume, most if not all of your army."

"Cassandra's going to insist on coming," Eve confirmed. "Most of Bull's Chargers are in Ferelden at the moment but I'm sure he'll want to join us. Then there's the commander who'll be needed because of the large amounts of soldiers. It'll be similar to Adamant from what I'm told." She paused. "In scope, I mean. Maker, I hope it's not like Adamant at all otherwise."

Alexius pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'll feel better letting you leave knowing you're in good hands. It doesn't mean I won't worry, however."

"I'll be careful," she promised.

"No you won't." He laughed. "You'll leap into the fray, protecting as many people as you can. You'll fight with all your heart and you won't stop until you're lying unconscious."

"No I-"

"Yes, you will," he interrupted. "But that's one of the many reasons I love you. Selfless. Passionate. Eager."

"I'd be more passionate and eager if I wasn't in pain right now." She drew her knee over his thigh, pressing close to his groin.

He brought his free hand to stop her, gently massaging. "Our farewell will be most enjoyable. But for now, you have to concentrate on recovering."

Eve sighed again but relented, sliding her leg down. "Even after Corypheus is defeated, I'll have an obligation. More rifts to close, demons to fight. Whatever Venatori or red templars have to be defeated. Red lyrium cleanup all over Ferelden and the Dales. It seems endless."

"There will be an end," he assured her. "You've taken on a phenomenally daunting task. One not experienced by anyone in recent history."

"Mm. The Hero of Ferelden would have something to say about that."

"Stopping a Blight is indeed difficult work," Alexius agreed. "But even the Archdemon wasn't fought and slain by one person. Nor were the darkspawn battled in single combat."

"I've my armies," she insisted.

"You're so very modest. Perhaps I should let that be and stop trying to convince you of your magnificence."

Eve blushed. She knew she shouldered a great responsibility, but to hear Alexius call her magnificent felt good. Humility and humbleness came easily to her. It was simple to default to the belief that what she was doing wasn't anything amazing, that anyone would do it. But would they? She liked to think they would but only because she liked believing the very best in people. Though with everything she'd seen, she knew the world was a much colder and crueler place than that. Perhaps it _was_ all right to not be humble for once. "I am pretty damn awesome," she said. If she'd said it months ago, it would've been sarcastic, or hyperbolic. Even now it felt a little ridiculous, but Alexius's free hand found hers and he brought her fingers to his lips.

"You are," he agreed.

"After Corypheus is defeated, regardless of what needs to be done, I'm taking a few weeks off," she decided. "Cassandra or Leliana can look after things here. Josephine can handle the nobles. I just want it to be us. Like a honeymoon."

"Honeymoons occur after marriage, conventionally."

Eve let the statement hang in the air, not responding just yet. It wasn't the first time a discussion of marriage had crept into their conversation. The idea of living with Alexius, enjoying life with him no matter where it happened, was a very welcome one. She would like to travel, to see Thedas without the threat of Corypheus looming over her. Then after, settling down in a nice house, perhaps learning more magic and then maybe taking on an apprentice of her own eventually. It sounded perfect. Getting married, a big wedding with all her friends around her? That had never been something she even remotely thought she could have. Not locked in the Circle, not on the run from the templars, and certainly not after the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

"Then again," Alexius continued, "we're rather far from convention."

"I think I might want to," she said suddenly. "Get married. Some day." Heat rose in her cheeks and suddenly the blanket tucked around her felt almost stifling and she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.

"Would you?"

"Mmhm." She looked up at him through the dim light. "I love you."

He smiled. "And I you. Perhaps we should wait until this is over-"

"No. I think it should be before that. Before I have to fight Corypheus. I want… I want to. Maybe not a huge wedding or anything. We can do that part after. But I want to," she said again, feeling more sure of herself.

"Evelyn-" He sounded pained, almost scared.

"Tell me what you're thinking," she said, reaching up, touching the corner of his mouth before cupping his cheek.

He sighed. "Truly?"

"Yes."

"I… am thinking irrational thoughts. The first I admit to being that I don't want to witness my wife's funeral pyre again."

The statement struck her hard, and she realized that maybe she was being unfair. He loved her, of course he did. But he'd already expressed fear of losing her. Then, so soon after seeing her fall in the Wastes, to make him think about Livia's passing was horrible of her. "Of course. I'm sorry, that's selfish."

"No, it's not. I understand."

She leaned her forehead against his chest. "Yes it is. It doesn't matter if we're married or not because you'll love me no matter what. I wanted it for myself. But I can wait until you're ready," she assured him, looking up once more. "Promise me that after this is over we can get married someday."

"Cara mia," he breathed, and kissed her deeply. When it ended, he looked her in the eye. "I promise. You will have a proper proposal and a proper ring. With the wedding that they'll speak about for ages to come."

"I don't need all that." She paused. "Maybe the ring."

He laughed. "Something to match your beauty. Though I expect that will be difficult to find."

"Oh, Gereon." She smiled and hugged him close, able to ignore the twinging pain her back for the giddiness she felt of being near him. Satisfied with the promise and thinking about the hopefulness of the future, she fell asleep.


	21. Chapter 21

The following week was extremely busy. Eve met several times with Morrigan, ending in a conversation regarding elven eluvians, a mirror that held the key to a strange Fade-like world. Eve did not particularly care for the trip through nor the explanation after, and decided to keep it to herself. If any of her friends or advisors found out, they would surely have had something to say about it. They did, however, seem to know about the mirror itself, and the room that it was kept in was locked firmly to avoid any accidents from occurring. She thanked Morrigan for her insight, then avoided her until it was time to depart.

Alexius kept himself and Dorian busy, working not in his room, but a much larger hall off the kitchens. Eve gave both of them sanction to use the space, setting it permanently as an arcane laboratory. She'd set several guards outside the entrance with a very short list of who was allowed in when Alexius was there, and an even shorter list of those who were allowed when he was not. He seemed to have gained a bit of notoriety among the more impressionable mages and now that he was more accessible, it wasn't unusual to see him talking with a group of them in the courtyard from time to time. Eve thought it was definitely a good sign to open and foster understanding between Tevinter and the rest of Thedas. In addition to that, Dorian assured her that they would make decent progress, even in the short week they had together.

Packing for the trip was easy, but thinking about the long journey ahead was not. She took meals with Alexius as often as she could, knowing how horribly she would miss him while they were apart. The time not spent with him was used in meeting with heads of noble families requesting favors, last minute arrangements with Josephine, and listening to Leliana report what her scouts found in the Wilds so far. Additionally, she needed to be made aware of the goings-on in Nevarra, issuing orders to cease Venatori opposition, and make promises to meet with several others once she returned from the Wilds.

Feeling exhausted, she fell into bed the night before they were to leave for the Wilds, her back still quite sore but no longer in need of bandaging. She was almost asleep when Alexius finally joined her, slipping between the sheets carefully as not to disturb her. She curled against him, clutching his silken sleep shirt.

"Still awake?" he whispered, wrapping an arm around her.

"I thought rest and recovery meant resting and recovering," she sighed before leaning up to kiss him. "How was your day?"

"Quite productive. I believe we'll be ready long before I thought we would. Dorian's help was invaluable. By the time you return, I should have it." He kissed her forehead. "You look tired."

"I am beyond it," she said, yawning against his chest. She turned in his arms and pressed back against him, enjoying the feeling of being held.

He kissed her shoulder, then her neck. "I shall miss you."

"Will you? I think you'll be fine," she teased. "That large laboratory all to yourself. Your newfound fame."

"Ah, yes. The group of young mages who seem to enjoy asking me several thousand questions every second of the day." However, he sounded rather fond of the fact.

"Now that you're no longer hiding away in your rooms all the time," she said. She entwined her fingers with his, then pulled his hand to cup her breast, encouraging him to squeeze.

"Simply ruining my reputation as an evil, unapproachable Tevinter magister," he whispered, taking her lead. One of his legs slid between her own.

Eve suddenly didn't feel so tired anymore, her smallclothes too constricting as his thigh pressed up against her. She felt the familiar fluttering of arousal in her lower belly, sinking to her groin and she squeezed her legs together, hugging his thigh. "I can't say I'm not a little jealous, no longer having you to myself. So long as you don't pay them this kind of attention."

Alexius chuckled, hand sliding down to pull up her nightgown. Warm fingers brushed her stomach, causing her to tense. "Only you."

She tilted her head, eyes closed as he kissed her neck. His hand moved up under the nightgown, cupping and squeezing her breast, thumb brushing firmly over a nipple. Where in past he might have been gentle with her, setting the pace slowly, he was demanding now. She felt his cock harden against the swell of her ass and suddenly wanted it inside her as quickly as possible. Urgently she grabbed hold of her smalls and pushed them down her thighs, dislodging his leg. She ignored his amused laughter and pressed back once more against him, one hand gripping his hip for leverage as she started to grind against him.

"Evelyn," he moaned. "Maker's breath, woman."

"Fuck me," she begged him. "I'm already wet."

His hand slipped between her legs to find she was telling the truth. She pushed it down further and squeezed.

"Inside me," she ordered.

One finger slid between her slick folds, rubbing teasingly, but did not push inside. She groaned, frustrated, until he found her clit. Demanding, she pressed back again.

"Gereon, please. I don't want to wait."

There was a subtle shifting of fabric and she felt his erection against her ass. His hand left her briefly to position himself and she arched to give him more space. Then with a satisfied moan, she felt him slide inside her, a quiet spell to provide just a bit more lubricant, warm and pulsing, adding to the pleasure. He felt so _good_ inside her and she squeezed around him. His fingers were back, first to set a rhythm for her to thrust in time with him, then once more against her clit. She clutched the sheet with one hand, her other arm curled under her head, holding on tightly while he kissed her shoulder, her ear, hot breath over her cheek.

They didn't speak, quiet sounds of pleasure and satisfaction as they slowly fucked. She squeezed her eyes shut, then clenched around him, enjoying the soft grunt he made, and she did it again. With every thrust she repeated the action, though her hips started to move erratically as he firmly rubbed his fingers against her. The tiniest little spot on her body that caused her to convulse in pleasure, and he'd shown her how good it could feel. Time and time again, she was grateful to be able to simply feel. He made her forget about everything else, her world reduced to their connection, how she loved him. Her hips spasmed forward and she felt him slip out, but his fingers didn't stop. She panted, frantically pushing forward against his hand.

"Gereon! Gereon… Close. I need more."

She pulled her knees up instinctively and felt him enter her again. Unhindered now, he leaned up on his elbow for leverage and thrust quickly, erratically inside her. Eve cried out, nails digging into the pillow, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. The familiar feeling of pleasure peaked and crashed, then again as he worked the last bits of exquisite ecstasy from her body. She felt him thrust again, a quiet whisper in Tevene as he felt it too, almost silent as he came. She realized that she might have screamed his name, her throat raw, and she swallowed hard. Breathing heavily, he dropped next to her, cock softening and slipping from her. Eve shivered, skin covered in goose bumps.

"Gereon?" she managed.

"Hn?" He was breathless.

"Maker."

"Mm."

They lay quietly for a moment, catching their breath until she gingerly rolled to her stomach and looked at him. "That was so good. You're so… It just gets better every time," she said, reaching out, hand resting on his chest.

He laughed quietly. "I did promise."

Eve pulled her smalls off her legs, wiped up the mess, and tossed them to the floor. Nightgown twisted around her chest, she managed to pull it down while Alexius dealt with his own clothing. After, she wrapped herself around him, head on his chest.

"I love you. I want to do that every night that we possibly can."

He said something in Tevene, followed by another quiet laugh.

"What was that?" she asked, barely lifting her head.

"An old phrase. 'Festis bei umo canavarum'."

"Don't know it," she admitted, muffled against his chest. "Does it mean you love me more than anything?"

"It means, 'you will be the death of me'."

"Oh." She grinned, feeling extremely satisfied, and extremely proud. With a yawn, she said, "Yes, but what a lovely way to go."

"Maker," he sighed, then laughed again, kissing the top of her head. "Yes. What a lovely way indeed."

-

Of all the things Eve had seen on her travels through the south of Thedas, nothing could measure up to the Temple of Mythal. She was immediately glad for Solas's company, especially when he helped to translate the ancient elven language that Morrigan could not. Dorian likewise seemed enamored by the rich history of the temple, the mosaics and bricks, the old and crumbling statues that must've depicted Mythal herself. Eve couldn't help but marvel at the magic that was still alive, crouching down to run her fingers over the tiles that lit up with their presence. The argument between Solas and Morrigan regarding the statue of Fen'Harel was thankfully short-lived and didn't ruin the complete awe she felt.

It was easy to forget that they were being pursued by Corypheus and chasing Samson and his red templars in the middle of so much history. When Morrigan suggested they take the petitioner's path and pay homage to Mythal, Eve was quick to agree. Whatever magic the temple still held, it needed to be respected. Difficult though it was to puzzle out the correct tiles to step on, she worked with Solas and Dorian to ensure their safe passage. And in the end, it was worth it.

The ancient elves or whoever they were seemed surprised by their humility. Eve glanced at their sleek armor and powerful looking weapons and was instantly relieved that they wouldn't have to meet them in combat. Though she'd come a long way with her magic from when she first started, they'd seen first-hand what the elves defending their temple could do. Losing more Inquisition soldiers to them was simply not good. Battling two armies at once, in addition to the rogue Grey Wardens, would hurt them horribly and they needed their strength.

However, Eve regretted Morrigan's actions, taking off after Abelas. What was it to Eve if the Well was destroyed? What did it matter what happened to it, so long as Corypheus didn't get it? Yes, there was logic in keeping the power for herself, for the Inquisition, but it wasn't _their_ power to take.

"Are you all right?" Dorian asked as they followed the guide through the temple.

Solas, who'd been glancing around, turned his attention to the conversation.

"No," she admitted. "I know that Morrigan isn't with us, not technically. But she should have at least listened to what I had to say. If she ruins this…"

"Have faith, da'len," Solas soothed her. "Abelas has been guarding this temple for longer than you could possibly imagine. Even a talented witch such as Morrigan will find it difficult to take it from them."

Eve nodded. "But if we can work with these elves, maybe they can help us. You know the saying – the enemy of my enemy is my friend." She'd survived before the conclave by teaming up with all sorts of mages. No one wanted to be caught by the templars. Regardless of who you were or what you believed in, the common threat was something they could all band together against. "They might not join the Inquisition but at least they could see the threat of Corypheus. But not if they see us as a threat, too."

"I would say you did a fairly decent job explaining your intentions to that Abelas fellow," Dorian said. "But can you believe it? Actual ancient elves. And you heard what he said about my countrymen? The elves warred amongst themselves. It's something to think about."

"No one would believe it." Eve could understand his excitement, but she felt the bitterness of stigma just as Dorian did. After all, if it was revealed that mages hadn't actually walked into the Fade and corrupted the Golden City and started the Blights, who would actually believe that? Thousands of years of history and stories contradicted it; even Corypheus himself seemed to support the idea. Tevinter history stated that the ancient Tevinters beat back the elves and took them as slaves, that they were the conquering army. But seeing these elves, so deadly even now, it was difficult to think that any army could defeat them in their prime.

"Sadly true," Dorian agreed. "But it is something."

They followed the guide further into the temple, stepping through the last set of doors into an enormous conservatory-like room. Nature had taken back much of this part of the temple, the ceiling open to the sky, still blue and quite sunny. Several waterfalls flowed through the room emptying into little streams and Eve felt like she could spend hours there. Whether it was the natural calm or some kind of magic, she wasn't sure. That, however, was broken by Samson far down below, bellowing orders to his men. She gripped her staff, looked to Dorian and Solas, and led the way down.

She remembered the conversations she had with Cullen, the reports about Samson as she entered the fight. Elves, no doubt given their orders by Abelas, joined them. The red templars seemed tireless and Samson himself mocked her, laughing at her abilities. She felt the amulet around her neck, the very first trinket that Alexius had gifted her. Its innate power added to her own gave her the renewed confidence she needed as she pushed harder in this battle. Solas and Dorian fought by her side, two elves in front creating a line for them, keeping them shielded from the harsh blows from the templars' swords.

Samson fought hard, but the red lyrium rune created by Dagna broke his armor's power if not his spirit. This was a man the Chantry betrayed. Someone they tossed aside for helping a mage. A good man at one point, to hear Cullen tell the tale. Her heart hurt for him even as she brought a firestorm down over him and his men. Corypheus had taken him and raised him up, promised him more as he always did. Samson simply wasn't strong enough to see that he could've taken another path, any path. While she held onto that sympathy she had for him, she knew she couldn't give in or give up.

The fight exhausted her but in the end they were all still standing. Of course when all she wanted was to rest, they were forced ever onward, Abelas sprinting up the stairs, Morrigan soaring overhead, both racing for the Well. She, Dorian, and Solas followed quickly, coming to a halt atop the plateau, the Well of Sorrows just behind Morrigan while Abelas looked between them both. It broke Eve's heart to hear his despair, the idea that you could fight so long for something, to keep it safe and protect it, and still fail. Was it analogous to her own struggles? She hoped not.

When Abelas turned away with a parting word from Solas, Eve looked back to Morrigan. "You were wrong."

Morrigan huffed. "You'll note the intact eluvian."

Eve shook her head. "That's not what I'm talking about." But she was too tired to clarify, not wanting to argue with Morrigan about her actions. Instead, she stepped up to the edge of the Well and knelt down, holding her hand out over it. Immediately she heard whispers like a song in her head and pulled back. "It feels…"

"Hungry," Morrigan agreed.

Ancient knowledge inside a pool. It was almost like lyrium, though the water was clear, the surface calm. Eve wasn't sure what to do and the ensuing argument made her head ache. She looked from Solas to Dorian, collecting their opinions on it, and leaned slightly in Dorian's favor – it was all a bit ghoulish, though fascinating. She wondered what Alexius would say if he was here. On one hand, giving in to Morrigan would not be wise. She hadn't proven to be wholly loyal to the Inquisition and was clearly in it for herself. But it was extremely unlikely that she would turn to Corypheus and aid him instead. More likely she would run off never to be heard from again; it seemed more her style, Eve decided. To lose that knowledge might hurt them irreparably. 

However, what if she couldn't handle what was in the Well? What if it drove her mad or even killed her? The idea that Dorian would have to carry her body back to Alexius disgusted her. It wasn't as if she fell in battle, which was always a possibility. Perhaps even an inevitability considering she would need to fight Corypheus at some point. Dying because she drank from an ancient pool would be a foolish way to go. Though Morrigan's loyalties definitely wavered, the promise of keeping the Well's power after Corypheus was destroyed would be enough to keep her with the Inquisition until then. Or so Eve hoped.

"Go head," she said finally, and stepped back. She felt Dorian's hand on her shoulder, squeezing in a reassuring way. She looked at Solas who nodded, though his expression was hard to read, and they all watched Morrigan step into the Well.

The magical pull Eve felt was hard to deny. Thousands of years of wisdom swirled into being as Morrigan drank. Blue and green wisps pulled from across the Fade to answer the Well's call danced and zipped across the water's surface. For a moment everything was silent, and then in the next, everything came crashing down. The water dispersed, Morrigan cried out and fell and they raced into the now-dry well. Morrigan gripped Eve's arm, a string of elven coming rapid-fire from her lips, too fast for Eve to translate even if she could recognize the words.

"Easy," Eve said, helping her to her feet. "Are you all right?"

Before they could get anything substantial from the still-shaken Morrigan, however, Eve felt a magical pull of a different kind. Something that was an anathema to the almost playful, powerful surge of Mythal's knowledge. Dark and heinous, they all recognized it before they even saw its originator: Corypheus, livid, soaring through the air toward them.

"Through the mirror!" Eve shouted as the glassy surface turned permeable.

They didn't argue, the four of them leaping through, narrowly escaping Corypheus's wrath.

-

After ensuring her companions were all right and informing a rather surprised Josephine to send ravens to recall their men from the Wilds, Eve instructed Morrigan to eat and rest and requested her presence when the others arrived back at Skyhold to discuss what happened. Though sometimes foolish, Eve wasn't stupid, and placed four of Leliana's people to watch Morrigan at all times, instructing them that she was not to leave Skyhold for any reason without her knowledge. Then, satisfied with the orders given, she sought out Alexius in his new laboratory. While she normally would've been pleased to see the half dozen mages surrounding him, learning from him, right now she just wanted to speak with him alone.

"Excuse me," she said, knowing she must've looked a sight. She hadn't even stopped to bathe or change from her muddy leathers.

"Inquisitor!" one of the mages exclaimed.

"I need to speak with Researcher Alexius in private."

There was a general murmuring of assent and more than a few knowing looks as they filed out. Alexius, who hadn't taken his eyes off her since she entered, waited until the door shut and immediately crossed to take her in his arms.

"You weren't expected back for quite some time," he said, kissing the top of her head. "Not, of course, that I am complaining. What happened? You're shaking."

Eve buried her face in his chest as she'd done so many times before. No matter what the world continued to throw at her, this was her safe spot. His arms were wrapped around her tightly and she clutched his robes, breathing in deeply. It calmed her considerably until she felt she could finally speak. The story poured out of her, the Temple of Mythal, the ancient elves, all that Abelas said, the Well of Sorrows, Samson and his army, and Corypheus.

"I should have taken what the Well offered," she said, looking up at him. "But I couldn't. What if I couldn't handle it? What if it killed me? I thought about you. About what would happen to you if anything happened to me. I was selfish, I suppose. Do… you think I did the right thing?"

Alexius leaned down and kissed her, cupping her face in his strong hands. Her fingers twisted in the fabric of his robes, returning the kiss, lips parting as his tongue met hers insistently. She stepped back when he pushed forward, her thighs hitting the lab table. When he pulled back it was only to catch his breath before kissing her again. Her hands dropped from his robes and gripped the edge of the table, back bent slightly.

"So," she said, slightly breathless when he pulled back once more. "I guess that answers that."

He chuckled against her lips, then nuzzled her cheek before kissing it. "Yes. Though many will say you made the wrong decision for the Inquisition," he said quietly, taking her hand.

"I don't care. Morrigan can be convinced to continue helping us. If she'd died, we wouldn't have gotten the knowledge anyway. And who's to say it can help us defeat Corypheus? It could just be a lot of mystical nonsense." She didn't think so, but it was another justification for her choice. "I want to make it through this, Gereon. I have too much to live for. I want to be with you for as long as I can."

Alexius squeezed her hand, then reached up, brushing her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. "And I you."

"I thought about what would happen to you if I died. If Dorian had to tell you because you weren't there." She laid a hand against his chest, over his heart. "I couldn't do that to you. I couldn't take the chance. I already know what it's going to cost you to let me go to Corypheus. You know what I have to do and there's a chance that…" She shook her head. "We're going to win this. And then we're going to get married. You promised."

He laughed softly. "Yes, I did. We shall. _When_ you defeat him."

She nodded, determined. "Tell me what you've discovered." She gestured to the lab table.

"In a moment. First," he said, holding her at arm's length, and raised an eyebrow.

Eve looked down at herself. Covered in dirt and blood, a bit of her robes singed from fire, and she knew her hair had come loose from its braid, not to mention how she must've smelled. "Right. Bath." It had become something of a ritual for her, one she never minded. And now that she had Alexius with her, it made it even better.

He quickly cleaned up the things he'd been working on, shelved a few books, then ushered her out. They walked together, hand-in-hand to her quarters, hardly anyone batting an eye now. Those who would disdain their relationship had decided already to either leave the Inquisition, or understood that their Inquisitor's choice in personal relationships had no bearing on her abilities or drive. It was liberating not to hide it anymore and made for an empowering counterbalance to the dread and anxiety she felt at the idea of facing Corypheus. Now that she'd thwarted him yet again, she knew that the end was coming.

She just hoped she was ready for it.


	22. Chapter 22

Life at Skyhold returned to normal only briefly when the others returned from the Arbor Wilds. It would take much longer for their soldiers and scouts to be recalled, but Cullen was eager to inform her that they'd captured Samson who'd been attempting to flee the Wilds. This was surprising news to Eve, as she thought she'd defeated him in the temple. However with the flurry of activity that followed the fight, she realized she hadn't had time to stop and check to make sure he was in fact dead. As angry as she was with herself for the oversight, she realized this was a chance for him to redeem himself. Not that she thought he would ever delight in working for the Inquisition, but hopefully this would bring Cullen the closure he needed as well. When she passed Samson's shackles to Cullen, the tight-lipped smile and nod from her commander ensured her that she'd made the right decision.

Following that was a curious conversation with Morrigan regarding the Well. Eve was relieved to realize that Morrigan was still on their side. Morrigan assured her there was a way to defeat Corypheus, that she could hear the Well whispering to her. The excitement and gratitude she felt spilled over in her speech as she spoke about an ancient grove where they would need to summon Mythal. This news was altogether overwhelming – the thought of summoning an ancient elven goddess was more than a bit unnerving. But Morrigan was sure it would work, and Eve wasn't going to contradict her. With no other leads on Corypheus, where he might be or what he might be doing now, they needed every scrap of information they could get. Learning how to defeat his dragon and thus defeat him was paramount. She promised Morrigan they would depart in the morning.

That night she caught the others up, telling the tale of the temple once more as they gathered for their weekly dinner in the throne room. It had a certain finality to it, she thought, and once she finished her story – with help from Dorian – she fell silent and let the others talk, the conversation shifting to what they might find in the ancient grove the next day, then to more mundane topics. Alexius took her hand under the table and squeezed, a questioning look on his face. She gave him a tired but reassuring smile and leaned over for him to kiss her cheek.

"When you return," Alexius said, "I believe my research is ready for you."

Eve dragged her spoon through the bowl of stew, contemplating. "And it's safe?"

"I wouldn't offer it to you if it wasn't," he promised. "I sent a sample to the proprietor of the Black Emporium. The letter I received in return was enlightening."

"Oh?"

Alexius smirked. "He demanded an order for four gallons of it. I've yet to respond."

She laughed. "You could make a fortune. Another fortune," she corrected. Then she realized she had no actual idea how much money Alexius possessed. Not that mattered, of course. They could live together in a shack and she would be fine. In her short life she'd been the daughter of a lord, a nobody in a tower, a fugitive, Herald to the Maker's bride, and now the Inquisitor living in a vast castle of her own. Sleeping in tents in the woods while being hunted by templars was possibly the worst living conditions she experienced, and anything was a step up from that.

"I likely shall once this is over. My current holdings are tied up in politics, though Maevaris has been pushing to ensure my lands and titles are restored, if not my seat in the Magisterium. I was never very happy in politics," he assured her.

"If you wanted it back, I could have Josephine speak with the Archon-"

He slid his hand over hers and took it, holding it loosely atop the table. "No. I think I'll spend my remaining time doing what I actually enjoy – tutoring."

She nodded. He was happiest teaching and always seemed to have been. "And once we marry I'll be a full citizen of Tevinter?" She wasn't sure how it worked. But to be called Evelyn Alexius instead of Trevelyan would be a welcome change. None of her family had written to her since she'd last seen Maxwell. She wondered if she should even invite them to the wedding. If they would even come. _The Inquisition is my real family._

"There's quite a bit of paperwork, but I'll take care of that," he promised.

"Will we have a spring wedding?"

"Wedding?" Dorian asked, glancing at her from Alexius's other side. Thankfully he seemed to be the only one who heard. "What's this, then?"

"It's a ceremony between two people who love each other very much where they proclaim their everlasting commitment to one another," Eve informed him.

He huffed at her sarcasm, then looked to Alexius. "Indeed?"

"Perhaps we ought to invest in a dictionary for him," Alexius continued to tease.

"You two are positively awful together. A bad influence on the other, I swear," Dorian declared, downing his wine. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Not yet," Eve said. "I mean, about the actual ceremony. After Corypheus. With a proper ring and proposal and all." Though she'd not given much thought to marriage until rather recently, the possibility of it becoming a reality was coming ever closer.

"I shall have to employ the best dress-makers in Tevinter to fit you properly," Dorian said, clinking his glass to hers. "I look forward to it. Alexius, would you mind taking a walk with me? There are a few things I wish to discuss regarding my eventual return home."

Eve, who knew how strained things were with Dorian and his father, accepted the kiss on her cheek as Alexius excused himself. She hoped Dorian would agree to come with them, if only for a time. After all, she would want him by her side while the Inquisition finished their work. However, they were both long overdue for a holiday.

"The way you look at him," Cassandra said, pulling Eve from her daydream of what life after the Inquisition would be like.

"Hm?" she said, turning away from watching Alexius leave.

Cassandra smiled. "It is good to see you happy."

Eve returned the smile, ducking her head a bit. "Thank you. For supporting me, I mean. In that and everything else."

"Of course. You have been a great friend to me. How could I do anything but return the favor? When this is over, we will not lose touch."

"Even if they decide to make you Divine?" Eve asked.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "About that… we will see."

"If he asks me to marry him… when, I suppose, he asks, you'll have to come for the wedding. Divine or not."

"I would not miss it," Cassandra promised.

Eve looked back to the throne room doors where Alexius had left with Dorian, eager to see the end of this war.

-

"Did you want to tell me the real reason you pulled me from the table?" Alexius asked, once they'd gained the ramparts. He pulled his cloak around himself, leaning back against the cold stone wall.

Dorian had the decency to look sheepish. "Here I thought I was being subtle."

"As a brick to the face," Alexius confirmed, but smiled. "Come now. We've known each other far too long for that. Surely we can speak candidly. I assume it's something important, lest you could've remained at the table and told me there."

"Right to it then," Dorian sighed. "You've discussed marriage with Eve."

"Yes." Alexius thought it might have had something to do with that. As self-absorbed as Dorian could be at times, he was rather observant. He was also somewhat hotheaded when he thought he was right, and Alexius braced himself for a lecture. It wouldn't be the first time Dorian beat his head against the proverbial wall, trying to get him to see things from his point of view. Of course Alexius _did_ see things from that perspective. Most of the time, experience simply allowed him to negate the argument.

"I wouldn't have thought that topic of conversation would've cropped up." He pushed on before Alexius could say anything. "Don't get me wrong. I'm very happy for the both of you. It's sickening the way you two look at one another and act all syrupy when you're together. Obviously marriage is the natural progression of things."

"However?" Alexius prompted, already knowing where this was going.

"You know what I'm going to say," Dorian said flatly.

Alexius sighed. "No one will ever replace Livia. You know what she meant to me. How could you not? And she adored you like a son."

Dorian looked away, crossing his arms, a bit of a guilty look on his face. "She was an exceptional woman."

"So is Evelyn."

"Well I can hardly argue that," Dorian agreed. He looked back at Alexius. "I wish to see both of you happy, of course."

"You can admit to envy, Dorian. It won't make you any less of a man. Though…"

"Though?" Dorian asked, frowning.

"Well I must say I definitely won't be the one to tell your father you've fallen in with a Qunari lover." Alexius watched Dorian's eyes widen, his lips parting in surprise. "You've a lot to learn about subtlety. Or perhaps I simply know you too well. You've been _happy_."

"I've always been happy," Dorian insisted, fooling neither of them. "All right, it hasn't all been sunshine and daisies."

"Then we're both happy. There seems to be very little else to say on the subject."

"You don't… object?" Dorian asked carefully.

Alexius sighed. "My boy, I am hardly in a position to demand you find your pleasure elsewhere. In this world you seize what little you can _when_ you can before it's snatched away from you in the cruelest fashion. I don't pretend to understand it, though he's a very far cry from his kin and how they tend to act. How many say the same of Evelyn and myself? I am many things, Dorian, but I am not a hypocrite."

"That's true enough," Dorian agreed. He paused, frowning. "You won't tell my father?"

Alexius laughed. "I have a feeling that Halward would happily curse the messenger who told him of his son's latest liaison."

"It's not just a – well. I don't know what it is," Dorian admitted. "I suppose I'll figure that out eventually." He waved a hand and changed the subject. "But a wedding, Alexius? In Minrathous, I expect?"

"Mm. No. Perhaps the country. A large city wedding would draw the eye of too many. Assassins hide easier in a large crowd. I assume you'll be in attendance with your beau, and he'll find it far more comfortable outside the capital."

"A country wedding in the spring," Dorian said, somewhat wistfully.

Alexius smiled. "You'll have your chance."

Dorian laughed. "Perhaps. Or not. Let's survive this war first then we'll suss out the details." He paused. "What about children?"

"You could always adopt," Alexius said, purposefully misinterpreting him. He smiled when Dorian gave him a look. "I leave it in her hands. It's not a discussion we've had yet, though I think perhaps I'm a bit too old now to raise another child."

"Nonsense," Dorian insisted. "You're a perfect father."

"Was," Alexius whispered.

"Are," Dorian repeated, gripping his arm, giving it a bit of a shake.

Alexius smiled, pleased with the implication. "Still, she wishes to travel and I wish to show her all there is to see. In time, if it's something she wants, I will…" He exhaled. "I will attempt fatherhood. Maker, it's been ages."

"There's still a whole lot of saving the world, then seeing the world to do before you need to think about that." He squeezed Alexius's arm reassuringly. "If you need someone to talk to about it, about any of it-"

"I will bring the matter up with Maevaris," Alexius jested.

Dorian scowled. "Yes, yes. Remind me how much better she is at listening than I am."

"Thank you. I do appreciate that." He cupped Dorian under the ear, smiling. "You'll be all right, my boy."

Shrugging, Dorian's gaze fell to his boots. "I suppose I'll flounder a bit more before I find my path."

"We all do, and we all have friends to help us back on it, as many times as we fall off, yes? I will be forever grateful."

"And I you, my friend," Dorian assured him.

They embraced, Alexius feeling the tension ebb from his former apprentice as they said good night. A large silhouette at the foot of the stone stairs waited for Dorian, who glanced around to make sure no one was watching before he accepted a quick kiss, and they walked off together. He would be all right, Alexius knew. As for himself, he was happier than he had been in a very long time. Funny, he thought, how the idea of marriage could elate and unnerve him all at the same time. The fluttering in his stomach made him feel giddy, like the young man he was when he started courting Livia. He would be a good husband to Evelyn, and if she wished it, a good father to their children. Glancing down at his hands, he touched the simple band of gold around his ring finger, remembering the day Livia slid it on. To find that kind of love twice in one life, he knew he was lucky.

Shivering a little in the brisk wind, he started back toward the throne room, looking forward to the night, and to the future.

-

The journey to the altar the next morning was neither long nor taxing, but Eve felt a great surge of anxiety leaving behind Solas, Dorian, and Bull at Morrigan's insistence as they entered the grove alone. She recognized the same statue from the temple in the Arbor Wilds, only the one at the altar was easily twice the height of the others. The entire area felt too old and too quiet, not even the wind rustling through the leaves in the trees. The magic here was ancient and powerful, and a part of Eve wanted to tell Morrigan to stop, to forget about the summoning, but she knew they had to press on.

Eve thought Mythal was only a legend. Before her visit to the Arbor Wilds, before any of this, she had been close to writing off all the gods and goddesses of the world as mere stories. Being privy to a conversation between this woman – Flemeth, Morrigan's mother, _Mythal_ \- made her dizzy with information. If Mythal truly existed, if the ancient elves were real, then as Sera had said so long ago the fairy stories about the start and end of the world were all very real as well. 

Overwhelmed with information, she listened to their conversation, her heart breaking slightly as she realized the implications behind their words. This wasn't merely a gift of knowledge, but a long overdue exchange between mother and daughter. She thought of her own mother, of what Lady Trevelyan must be doing now. Waking for another day, her maid dressing her and doing her hair. Would she want to have one last conversation before facing Corypheus? Morrigan knew what was at stake, and when Flemeth departed, it was overall disheartening. She touched Morrigan's shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting way.

"Now that we know the true implications of it," Morrigan said quietly, watching the spot where Flemeth disappeared into a thick, black mist, "I wish you had taken the Well's powers."

"…Forced to obey your mother's will," Eve agreed. She tried for a smile which became a tight-lipped grimace.

Morrigan shrugged her hand off, though not unkindly. "Regardless, we have the information we now need to defeat Corypheus. When the time comes, I can match his dragon's power." She let out a shaky breath. "I shall meet you back at Skyhold. I wish to be alone for the journey."

"I understand," Eve said, even though she thought it was probably best that Morrigan not be alone, considering how distraught she was. However, it was apparent that she needed time to think about what happened. If Lady Trevelyan had appeared with similar information, Eve would need time as well. So, leaving Morrigan in the grove, she left to collect the others, all of whom were relieved to see her alive and unharmed.

The return journey was quiet, Eve filling them in on what little information she gleaned, hoping that Solas would fill in the blanks, but he remained silent and thoughtful. They arrived at Skyhold in a somewhat subdued mood, despite the information they now held. Eve separated from the others to call a quick meeting of her advisors and Cassandra to relay the information, and Cullen assured her that were now searching en masse for Corypheus. The time for battle would be upon them soon, and for once Eve actually felt ready.

But there was still one more thing left. After dismissing them, she left to find Alexius.

-

Needles never bothered Eve before. She remembered the first time they took her blood for her phylactery, shaking and scared not of the needle, but the two armored templars who stood on either side of the door. The kindly old woman who turned out to be the First Enchanter spoke to her, explaining to her that she was special and because of that, they would need her blood to keep track of her. Later, she realized the hypocrisy of it all. Blood magic to track mages when any maleficar would be forced into Tranquility. She tried not to remember that night as Alexius sat across from her, holding the syringe delicately in his fingers. They decided to meet in his room, in his personal laboratory in order to apply the fruits of research.

"Once we find him, Morrigan promises she can take care of his dragon. We would just need to concentrate on Corypheus, and hopefully he doesn't summon a thousand demons down on our heads." She'd tried to go for a joking tone but fell flat, her anxiety apparent as she rolled up her sleeve. "I feel like I've been training for this my entire life, but I don't think I'll ever be ready."

"Considering it's not exactly a moment in which one can truly be ready for," Alexius agreed. He brushed an antiseptic-soaked cotton swab over the inside of her elbow. "You'll feel a pinch, then a rush of endorphins. If you're light-headed, tell me straight away so I can counteract the effects."

She swallowed hard and nodded. The needle was cold against her skin and she winced at the pinch, but watched as it sank into her vein. Alexius pushed the plunger of the syringe and for a moment, Eve felt nothing. Then she closed her eyes, her heart beating furiously against her chest. Alexius pressed a bandage against the needle wound in her arm but she barely felt it, concentrating instead on the raw power. Her nerves felt like they were on fire, an infinite well of energy that invigorated her. She felt as if she'd just run a thousand miles but still had the strength to run a thousand more. Overall it was amazing and wonderful, and perhaps terrifying of all, she wanted more.

"That… I feel _good_ ," she said, opening her eyes.

Alexius peered intently at her, then took her pulse. "No dizziness? No nausea?"

Eve shook her head. "No. Just like I could do anything at all. I could hike the Frostbacks all day."

He chuckled. "You could likely do that without it. The advantages of youth."

"The advantages of having an extremely intelligent lover," she countered, and leaned forward to kiss him.

He returned it, but gently pushed her back in order to heal up the wound on her arm and take her pulse again. "Back to normal."

"But I still feel it," she insisted. "The power."

"Which is exactly the result we were hoping for," Alexius assured her. "It will take some getting used to." He stood and started to clean off his tables.

"Why don't more mages try this?" she wondered, looking down at her hands. Little flickering flames licked at her fingertips and she clenched her fists, extinguishing them.

"I expect they do. Not all of them can succeed as I have."

She grinned, enjoying the confidence. Alexius was rarely arrogant but when he was it was warranted. He was brilliant, and she was proud of him. "And those who do?"

"Even if they were to successfully recreate this alteration, I can't imagine it would take one hundred percent of the time."

Eve stood and started to help him clean up, tucking away books into crates, bottling up ingredients, and wiping down the tables. "So it's possible that someone could make this, have it be just perfect, and it still wouldn't work?"

"Just as not every restorative and healing potion works the same way or as favorably to some, there was a chance this could have had an adverse reaction or none whatsoever. Of course I'm pleased with the outcome, and I was prepared for any inevitable result."

While she knew that Alexius would never let any harm come to her intentionally, it was a relief to know that he had a backup plan just in case. "And if I'd gotten dizzy?"

"A neutralizer." He tapped a second syringe on the table which he capped now and stored away. "Complete nullification to most foreign agents in the body. I never work without a safety net, my dear." He smiled a bit smugly.

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning up on her toes to kiss him. "Do you remember our first kiss?" she asked suddenly.

"Indeed. It was just about here," he said, holding her close. "For weeks I told myself that you would come to your senses."

"Mm. Nope. Still stubbornly refusing to." She smiled against his lips and kissed him again.

Footsteps on the stairs caused her to pull away, though she didn't leave his embrace. A harried-looking Cullen appeared on the steps, face flushed as if he'd run to find them.

"What's-" she started.

"Corypheus has been spotted," Cullen said breathlessly. "Near the ruins of Haven. We think he's going to try to reopen the Breach."

Eve shoved away the rising panic and fear that threatened to claw their way into her chest. "Give me a report," she said, ushering him back up the stairs. She held tightly to Alexius's hand, pulling him along.

"Our men haven't returned yet from the Arbor Wilds," Cullen said, leading the way out, through the library and throne room. "What little forces we have are ready to march. Our allies are with us."

"Get me my leathers and staff. Tell the others to assemble in the courtyard. We'll take the fastest of Dennet's horses down to the valley. If he brings his red templars or Venatori-"

"We'll handle that, Inquisitor," he assured her, and hurried off to fulfill the orders.

She looked at Alexius. "Will you-"

"I would be honored to fight once more at your side," Alexius said, taking her hand, kissing her knuckles.

She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him hard, pouring in every ounce of nervousness she felt, taking strength in his embrace, knowing he would be there with her through this until the end.

"I love you," he whispered as they parted. "Te amo, cara mia."

Eve let out a shaking breath and kissed him once more, softer this time. "I love you, too. Now," she said with a grin, "let's go meet fate and get some revenge."


	23. Chapter 23

_"I just want to go home."_

Eve remembered the words of her ten-year-old self, tearful and frightened as they brought her to the Circle. She'd seen the building several times walking through the city with her brothers or in a carriage ride after some party. She asked about it, about the mages inside. The Maker, her family told her, punished the mages for their arrogance. It never sat right with her, the Chantry preaching peace and love and family yet they locked away the mages. Didn't the mages have families? For weeks after her own incarceration she'd been able to talk to her family but only because they were nobles, because her father was a lord. Most of her friends she made in the Circle didn't have that privilege, and soon neither did she. It seemed the world had turned its back on her and she was scared and alone, with only her fellow mages to stand by her side.

Slowly she learned not to be so afraid. She learned to grow and adapt. While adrenaline surged through every muscle in her body, these were not nerves born of fear. Regardless of what happened in her past, if Andraste had chosen her or if it was a matter of circumstance, she survived and would continue to survive. Her staff thrummed powerfully in her hands, a seemingly endless well of energy to draw from as she cast her spells with little effort. Two dragons grappled in the air above them as the temple ruins broke apart, rising into the afternoon sky which darkened ominously. She heard Corypheus's booming laugh, his words taunting her, goading her into attacking a living god.

It reminded her forcibly of Haven. She'd been just a girl back then, willing to sacrifice anything to save her friends. While that hadn't changed, she was no longer just a girl. Fire erupted around her, white-hot and burning as she swung her staff wide, sending streams of molten flame toward Corypheus, forcing him to stay on the defensive. Her friends fought with her, working in tandem to keep him moving and he retreated back up another set of stairs, still laughing, still taunting her. Down below, the shouts of her army echoed off the valley walls. Men and women who followed her into battle day in and day out, believing in their cause.

"There will be great pleasure in taking your head!" Corypheus bellowed. "You will fall before me!"

She didn't bother to respond, swinging her staff in an upward arc with a fierce cry, a crackle of electric fire bursting forth from the tip. Several dozen smaller bits broke off from the larger, showering Corypheus in a rain of burning embers. He shouted in surprise and pain, the spell giving Bull and Blackwall enough time for to rush in and flank him, axe and sword biting into twisted flesh and bone. A shimmering white shield sprang up around her, protection from Solas, while a dozen corpses pulled themselves from the ground. Dorian and Alexius worked in tandem with the shadows, their necromancy providing fodder as a further distraction. From above, arrows and crossbow bolts rained down and Corypheus was forced to flee deeper into the temple ruins, higher up the steps.

Still, she pursued.

Training late into the night, waking early in the morning, practicing a routine until the spells were memorized, their motions burned into her muscles so strongly that she could perform them in her sleep. Every step of her journey that she took, the months of pushing herself, of failures and of victories, all culminated to this very moment. She heard her blood pulsing in her veins, felt the power in her muscles as she raced after him. Everything she did would be for naught if she failed here, and she did not plan on failing.

A dragon's screech pierced the sky, forcing their gazes upward. Two silhouettes in the distance, locked together, plummeted to the ground. An instant later, Corypheus let out an anguished cry, falling to his knees. Cassandra gave the order to attack and the battle resumed in earnest. A shield made of crimson electricity sprung up around Corypheus, the black orb held in his palm and he called to the heavens for help. None of them could get close enough to him to attack, arrows and bolts bouncing off, spells simply absorbed into the shield.

Eve stepped forward, palm pulsating with its green-white energy. The Anchor pulled her closer to the orb and she lifted her hand, ignoring the shouted warnings of the others, walking toward Corypheus and his shield. His eyes widened in shock and fear as she stepped through his barrier unimpeded. He called out again for Dumat for help, but his god did not answer his call. Instinct took over and she thrust her hand out toward him, a link between the orb and the Anchor wrenching Corypheus upward, a gale force wind kicking up around them. Her shouts were lost in the tumult, a power unlike any she'd ever felt before surging through her as she watched Corypheus get pulled into the sky, into the Breach. A maelstrom of magical energy swirled violently above them, lightning streaking across the blackness and then in an instant it was gone.

The Breach sealed itself. The wind died at once. The orb dropped to the ground, cracked and fragmented. Her knees shook and her legs gave out from under her. The next moment was an eddy of confusion, of relief, and of pure elation. Shouts and cheers, and warm arms around her as her friends surrounded her, pulling her up, and she realized that it was finally over. Corypheus was no longer a threat. Her arm was dragged over someone's shoulders and she didn't even have to walk as they carried her out of the ruins to meet others. Congratulations, the jubilant cries of her men filled the air. Familiar faces, all smiling, all looking at her, and she was relieved to see her friends unharmed.

"You did it," Alexius said, lips pressed against her ear, arm around her waist.

Eve turned into his embrace, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him soundly. A few sharp whistles broke through the applause and when she pulled away, she realized what she'd done with every eye upon her, and blushed. Alexius merely looked pleased, however, a rather smug smirk on his face. He lifted her up and spun her once before kissing her again, a perfect ending to her fairy tale story.

-

Fairy stories, Eve understood, generally had a happily ever after. The party to follow Corypheus's defeat was a week-long feast that didn't want to end. She spoke with anyone who wanted to see her, shook more hands and received more hugs than she ever thought possible. Cullen shook her hand and she embraced him as a friend, and thanked him. Josephine, once she stopped fretting, accepted a warm hug. And though Leliana clasped her hands, congratulating her, she delivered the somber news that Solas had disappeared. The odd juxtaposition of disappointment and sorrow coupled with her elation that their fight had finally come to an end exhausted her even further, and she decided that for now she wouldn't worry too much. Solas could take care of himself, and with any luck he would contact her again someday.

She didn't have much time to herself in the days following the feast, tying up loose ends with her advisors, giving Cassandra her blessing in her journey to become the next Divine, and promising to call upon her as soon as she was needed. Most of her friends decided to stay with the Inquisition, though Eve herself was preparing for the long journey to Tevinter for a much deserved holiday. Josephine assured her that her appointments would be rearranged to accommodate this, stating that saving the world deserved at least a little time off.

Dorian promised he would follow them in a few days, informing them he would need just a bit of time to, 'have a proper good-bye.' A surprised Eve followed his gaze toward the Iron Bull and she felt only slightly put out to realize she was one of the last to find out about this arrangement. However, she wished them both well, enjoying the bone-crushing hug from Bull and the delicate kiss on her cheek from Dorian. Saying good-bye to the others, promising them all they could stay as long as they wished, she finally was able to pack her necessities and at long last found herself in a carriage with Alexius, bound for Tevinter.

"I'm going to sleep for a week straight once we arrive," Eve said, leaning against him. She would miss Skyhold and everyone there, but to see where her new future would take her was exciting. Splitting her time between the castle and Alexius's estate until the Inquisition was no longer a necessary force would be taxing but worth it.

"You'll have a lovely feather bed with silk sheets. The finest robes that money can buy and you'll be treated like the queen you are," Alexius promised.

She laughed. "It sounds lovely, but it means nothing without you." She hugged him tightly around the middle, head tucked against his shoulder.

He shifted slightly, pulling out a small, black box. "Of course, love. I'm not going to leave your side."

Eve's eyes widened as he flipped open the box lid. Inside, tucked between two satin cushions was a silver ring shaped like a dragon. Diamonds glittered, catching the sunlight, with two red rubies for its eyes. She sat up, her hands covering her mouth at once as realization struck.

"You'll forgive an old man for not getting to his knees in a moving carriage," Alexius said, pulling the ring delicately from the box.

Unable to speak, she nodded fervently.

"Evelyn," he said, and took her hand, kissing her knuckles. "Will you do me the honor of making me the happiest man in Thedas?"

More nodding, a quiet squeak of happiness. Alexius chuckled, his own eyes slightly glassy as he slid the ring onto her finger. She stared at it for a moment before looking at him, and was quite sure she resembled a fish out of water, opening and closing her mouth, trying to find the words.

"It's so shiny!" She laughed. "I mean… it's perfect. It's beautiful."

"Quite like its bearer," Alexius said, always quick to compliment. "Cara mia. Look at me."

Eve tore her eyes away from the ring, and closed them at once when he kissed her, one warm hand against her cheek. She returned it but pulled away rather quickly to look at the ring again. "All right, but this is gorgeous."

He chuckled and pulled her against him, a possessive arm around her, holding her close. "I'm glad you like it."

"I love you, Gereon," she said, head nestled against his chest. She held up her hand, enjoying the way the light glinted off the stones.

"And I you," he whispered.

They remained that way, Eve relaxed against him, holding onto his free hand as the carriage pulled them toward Tevinter, and toward their future together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another one finished. Thanks to everyone who read and to those who gave feedback. <3 Feel free to check my profile for updates regarding new upcoming stories if you're interested. Thanks again for being awesome and reading my stuff! :)


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